I don't know how long we tried on dresses. None of them appealed to Oliver. At first, I struggled with taking off my bra before he threatened to rip it off, as we couldn't find a proper fit with it and "what's the point of a strapless dress if you're wearing a strappy bra?" "I know what'll make him shut up", Maria muttered, ripping the clamps out of the dress I was in. We were back in the fitting room, disapproved dresses lying all over the floor like slain warriors in battle.
"Maybe I'm just not supposed to have one", I said. "I mean, Oliver only got the idea after I admitted I liked that dumb gypsy wedding show."
Maria frowned. "Thorne, every girl has an Elizabeth Taylor inside of her. It's just a matter of finding the right way to bring her out", she said firmly. "Now, I have something back in the office that I've been working on for a while. It's...well, you'll have to see." She walked out of the room, leaving me half naked in the pile of dresses. After a glance in the mirror, I grabbed my flannel and threw it over myself. Hopefully Maria would be back soon. I don't know why Oliver kept rejecting all the dresses. They were all so pretty and I honestly felt comfortable in them (minus not being able to breathe but it was worth it). He just had this look about him, like he knew what he wanted and everything Maria and I had shown him wasn't right.
"I just know she has something better", sighed a low cockney voice, coming down the hall. I poked my head out of the door and saw Oliver, obviously bored and wanting to talk. "Thorne, my lovely blood siren, I promise it's not the dress. It's just you."
"Well, gee fucking whiz, Oliver. Thanks", I sneered. He held up his hands defensively and pushed into the fitting room.
"I didn't mean it like that", he whined, hugging me like a ragdoll. "You don't make the dresses look bad. You're just better than the dresses. And I know Maria's gotta have something better for you."
"What if there's nothing here?" I asked.
