Wildfire - H.S

14

So I resorted to searching through Esme's closet while she was out.

I paired the corset with some gold jewelry and my pearl necklace of course, I almost never take it off, as well as some high waisted white flare pants and black strappy heels.

My makeup is nowhere near as extravagant as the other night when Esme did it, just a very natural base and eye and a clear lip gloss.

Minimal makeup is my go to considering I am useless at doing it and really would end up looking like a clown.

The same goes for my hair. I've tried to curl it or do something a little different and more out there numerous times but it's always been disastrous so today I decided to stick to leaving it in its natural form of being straight.

I don't know if I'm trying too hard or not hard enough.

"Well, our goal for the night is to both end with a shag. I'm going out with slutty Sasha." Immediately I give her a side glance and a small slap in the stomach at the profanity although it is simply an inside joke that Sasha came up with herself.

"So." She emphasis, clearly not bothered by my dismissal of the language. "Good news is the apartment will be free all night for you and lover man." She continues and I find myself slapping her in the stomach again, resulting in a laugh from her.

Always talking about sex, she is. You'd think she's a nymphomaniac.

"But I'm afraid you can't leave the house in those shoes, they simply don't match." She begins taking charge as she usually does.

It is her area of expertise after all.

"I'll go grab my nude ones, lucky for you, I wasn't planning on wearing them tonight." She tells me while making her way to my door.

"Oh but I-" I object, or at least try to before she cuts me off.

"The ones that are easy to walk in, don't worry I don't want you to make a complete fool of yourself." She assures, rushing out of my room.

A few seconds later she walks in, looking all smiley with a pair of strappy nude heels in her hand.

I know she said they're the easier ones to walk in. But heels are heels and they are all painful and difficult to walk in, no matter what.

Luckily for us we are similar sizing in clothing and the same size in shoes meaning sharing clothes.

It's always come in handy, more so for me as my taste in fashion isn't really what Esme would define as fashion.

You can't blame her though, not everyone can rock a top covered in cats as well as I can.

Some people are simply not cat people.

I don't like those people.

With the exception of one.

Quickly I change from the black heels into the nude that definitely complement the outfit much nicer than my initial idea.

I grimace at her and hold two thumbs up, already feeling the blisters forming on my feet.

You'd think I'm used to it being a dancer, but my feet are in a constant state of pain so when I don't need to, I'd much rather be in slipper socks.

Honestly, I just want to be ready now and leave.

I love that Esme wants to help, but she can often get a little carried away and the last thing I want is for Harry to knock on the door and Esme to answer.

She'd simply faint on the spot.

Maybe even die.

Just straight up stop breathing. Everything with that girl is unpredictable.