Duplicity [h.s]

61

I know he has that leg tattoo he doesn't talk about, the one I saw last night. But that was a couple inches above his knee, swim short would cover it. He seems to have this complex that he'd look dumb in anything he simply hasn't tried.

"Why would you look dumb?" I furrow.

"I don't know, I've never owned a pair of shorts in my life I think." He shrugs.

I glance at the stores we were passing, a bunch of open shops all playing music, people walking in and out half dressed. I notice we were passing a beachwear shop, spin racks of bikinis on the outside. I had a bit of a devilish thought, smiling to myself while we got right next to the store.

In quick decision I pull him towards the beach store playing obnoxious music, but he was too quick minded to follow what I was doing.

"Oh no no no," He halts at the entrance, taking his arm off my shoulder. "We are not getting me a bathing suit."

I turn around and look at him through his sunglasses, pouting a bit.

"I just want to look." I play up the whine.

"I am not leaving here in douchy neon swim trunks." He shakes his head.

"They don't have to be douchy swim trunks." I defend. "Cmon...It'll be my treat."

"Aven I'm not getting anything." He laughs a bit but I know he was serious.

"Okay, let's just look then." I smile, pretending that was all I wanted so he'd agree.

He hesitates, staring at me from a meter away. I was in the store and he was out of it, significant to everything we go through together. I gave a little more of my subtle pout without making it cliche, folding my hands together in front of me.

"I'll look, but I'm not getting anything." He gives in slightly, but making it clear I wasn't completely winning this situation.

I grin and reach out to grab his hand, turning around and yanking him into the small bathing suit store. There were spinning racks everywhere for bikinis and swim shorts, I was instantly excited to pick out a pair and try my hardest to get him in them. I don't know why I was so excited, but I was. I bring him over to a mens rack, rotating it in my immediate browse.

"It smells like fucked judgment in here." He murmurs in instant regret of this situation.

"Mhmm.." I was only half listening, looking through all the swimsuits.

"I don't even know why you're trying, I'm not leaving in bloody shorts." He states again in stubborn pride.

I roll my eyes and ignore him, flipping through all the articles until pulling out a simple red pair of trunks. I smile and hold them up between us, showing him the selection. His eyes examine them through the sunglasses, his arm up and resting on the clothing rack.

"Never." He shuts down like I just brought out the worst piece of clothing he's ever seen.

"What! It's just plain red." I scan them again to see if I was missing any design on the material that deem it horrendous.

"Yeah and it's ugly." He shakes his head in picky decline.

I put them back and keep spinning the rack, passing anything that was colourful in anyway. I eventually reach a plain black pair, pulling them out and holding them up. There is no way he can say anything bad about these, it's the only colour clothing he wears.

"Nope." He rejects right as I hold them up.

"Why!"

"Just don't like them." He shrugs a bad excuse.