𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 - TMR AU, Thomas

𝟢𝟣𝟩，𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲

༺ SEVENTEEN ༻

"Sonya, which one?" I hold up two outfits. One, wider pants with a casual shirt and a cardigan, the other one a loose jumpsuit.

She looks up. "I don't know."

Frustrated, I groan. Nervousness has been bawling up my stomach the second after I woke up and realized it's Tuesday, and now it's exploding inside of me. "Just tell me what to wear at the fair!"

"A chicken suit," she says coldly.

"Sonya!" I slam a hand on my forehead. "Okay. Let's do it like this... what do you think Thomas would prefer?"

"Nothing."

I run the same hand down and when it meets my neck, I have the urge to strangle myself for a second. "Please just answer the question! Think! Place yourself into Thomas's view."

"I answered the question," she corrects. "I said he'd prefer nothing. No clothes at all."

My whole face gets red, yet I scowl. "Funny," I say. "I'll ask Mom, then. She'll be my wingwoman."

I see Sonya rolling her eyes, but before I know it, my feet have automatically ran myself to Mom, who's in the kitchen.

Concern is written over her face already. "Love, you're standing in your lingeries in the kitchen. It's dark outside and the curtains aren't closed."

I move the curtains. "I need help! I'm like desperate right now, and Sonya isn't helping. What do I wear to the fair? What do you think Thomas would like?"

She keeps mixing whatever she's baking. "I think you should choose whatever you like, Rose."

"I'll like what Thomas likes," I say. "Jumpsuit or pants?"

"I like jumpsuits," she says, smiling lightly. "You're gonna wear black one?"

I nod. The jumpsuit has wide pipes and long sleeves, along with a v-neck. So it's simple but not boring.

"Can you do my hair?" I ask. Through the nervousness, I'm still feeling enough excitement to get ready properly and look nice. "Please?"

"I'm baking cookies."

"Newt!" I hop over to the couch, where he's attempting to make an Instagram account. "Would you please mix the dough? I'll bless you forever."

He mumbles something that I take as a yes, so a few minutes later, Mom is curling my hair.

"So... curling your hair just to go to the fair, hm?" A laugh escapes her mouth. "You don't even curl your hair to go to parties. Sure this is just a friendly activity?"

My stomach has been twisting a lot lately, and especially now. I shrug in reply, then wince because she's pulls my hair too hard.

"What do you want it to be?" She wonders.

My nose scrunches up. "My hair?"

"Keep the head with the conversation, love." Mom laughs. "I mean going to the fair with Thomas. Do you want it to be a friendly activity? Or maybe a date?"