@kingdonmicrofic day 3: gala | 467/467 | rating: t
Mel leaves her heels by the door, grateful to feel soft carpet beneath her feet. She loves getting dressed up, she just finds much more comfort in her fuzzy socks and supportive shoes.
After her second work-mandated fundraising gala, she discovered that getting unready was much more fun than getting ready. The gentle weight lifting off when she unclasps her necklace, breathing once she’s unzipped her dress, letting her hair down.
It’s quiet tonight, eerily so, and she keeps listening for the noise of the front door opening.
Frank hadn’t followed her in instead running back to the car because he’d forgotten something, though what exactly remained vague. He left her with a dizzying kiss on the doorstep, but he still hasn’t come in yet. Whatever it is must really be hidden. She’ll give it another minute before checking on him.
Right as she drops her earrings into her jewelry dish, there’s a knocking sound… coming from the window.
Mel stares at it from where she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, frowning. Her bedroom window is on the second floor, there’s no way that was a knock. Right? But it happens again, louder this time.
Crossing the room, she pulls back the curtains and sure enough, Frank is standing on the small rusty fire escape waving at her.
“Frank,” she hisses, throwing the window open. “What are you doing?”
Unfairly, he looks delighted with himself and so handsome in his crumpled and now dusty suit jacket and fancy hair.Â
“You said you wanted to sneak a boy in,” he says, shrugging a shoulder. It’s true, it was on the list of things she told him she regretted never being able to do in high school, she just never expected him to actually do it. Mel blinks at him, equal parts incredulous and impressed.Â
“I meant like after prom or something, not— not right now.”
“Well, I hate to break it to you baby, but I think this is the closest we can get,” he leans against the windowsill, trying to kiss her, but the metal creaks under him and both their eyes widen.
Frank fumbles in through the window, only hitting his head twice during the whole ordeal and managing to pull a few expletives from Mel. After both feet are on the ground, she hugs him, squeezing with all her might. What a ridiculous, silly, extremely thoughtful man. His hands circle her, one slipping under the unzipped fabric.
Against her ear, he whispers, “You’re dressed up so pretty, c’mon baby.”
She hums, considering his romantic, albeit stupid, grand gesture.
“We have to lock the front door,” she mumbles into his chest.
“Can that be an after task?” He asks, pulling her closer, but she whines.Â
He laughs against her hair, “Alright, alright. I’ll go.”
andulkaphoto
vaporwave
2087
