Don't Write Me Notes || Levi x Reader

6. it doesn't count if it's a thank you

It's understandable, sure, seeing as the two of you have found yourselves in a fairly chaotic predicament. But Levi doesn't want that. If you're always anxious around him, it'll annoy him to death.

"Try on as many as you want," Levi says, wondering if he'll eat his words later. "The less time in that house, the better. I'm serious."

Your eyes shine as you smile. "Okay," you agree, and you're not fighting him on it, so Levi counts that as a win. "Okay, sure. You asked for it."

You vanish back into the changeroom. Sometime later, the attendant returns with at least half a dozen dresses under her arm, and there's an exchange as you hand back the yellow and blue ones. Levi pulls out his phone, noting the hundred-something texts from Hange that he has yet to reply to, and sinks into his chair.

The next dress is black, but when you step out to show him, it's clear you're uncomfortable in it. "I feel like I'm going to explode," you tell him candidly, and he rolls his eyes at you as you go back behind the curtain.

There's a few more: one that look like it's made out of purple feathers, and another that neither of you can agree on the color of ("It's black and blue!" "You're colorblind if you don't think that's white and gold.") but the following dress is a bit more promising: a red, long-sleeved gown that has a matching belt and barely brushes the ground. Levi's no dress expert, but he thinks it's fine.

"It's not awful," you say, spinning in a circle.

He likes the color. Shit, he should just tell you that. "The color's nice," Levi says.

You hum. "I'll amend your con about having awful taste in colors. I think red looks good on everyone, though."

Levi pauses. Yeah, that's probably true. "Do you like it?"

"Sleeves are a bit tight, and I don't think it fits me right around the hips," you admit, pulling gently at the fabric around your waist.

"I could have it altered."

"You're already paying enough," is your immediate response. Levi resists the urge to roll his eyes. "And besides, alterations are never quick. And this gala is tomorrow."

Alright, fair enough. "Cost isn't a problem," he reminds you.

You shoot him a look. Somewhere between incredulity and sheepishness. "Still," you mumble.

"I can always use my stepfather's credit card, if he's so desperate for me to become dependent on his money."

"Then he'll really think I'm a gold digger."

"That offends you?"

You frown at him and cross your arms, trying to come up with an answer. "It's offensive to you," you say.

His eyebrows knit together. "How?"

"Assuming you're only good for your money." You shrug, turning back to the mirror. "I mean, pros of fake dating you, you're not a bad fake boyfriend."

"High praise."

"I'm full of good things to say."

"Say a good thing about the dress."

You pause, then look to him. "The color's nice," you say, echoing what he said before.

Levi resists the urge to roll his eyes. "Go try another one."

"Want to pick out another disastrous one?"

You pull back the curtain. Levi frowns at the dresses up on the wall, then says, "the blue one."

"Much better choice than your last one," you say before you vanish behind the curtain.

When you emerge again, Levi agrees- it's much better than the yellow one he told you to try on earlier. But he can see the problem immediately: it's too long. The dress drapes along the ground, much too low to be fixed with heels.