Chapter 6
1538 Words
Mia had barely set her fork down before Lilly was on her feet.
“Done,” she ঘোষণা, grabbing both of their plates and stacking them with unnecessary speed. “We’re going dress shopping.”
“Lilly—”
“Nope,” Lilly cut her off, already dragging her up by the wrist. “You need a dress, I need entertainment, and we are not sitting around while your life gets more mysterious by the hour.”
Mia stumbled slightly as she was pulled along. “I can walk on my own, you know.”
“I’m aware,” Lilly said, not slowing in the slightest. “I just don’t trust you not to overthink yourself into staying here.”
“That’s not—”
“—exactly what you would do,” Lilly finished, flashing her a grin over her shoulder.
Mia sighed, but didn’t resist.
Because, honestly—
Lilly wasn’t wrong.
“Absolutely not.”
Mia blinked as Lilly shoved a shimmering silver dress back onto the rack with dramatic disgust.
“What?” Mia asked, glancing at it. “It’s not that bad.”
“It’s very that bad,” Lilly said. “You’d look like a disco ball that lost a fight with the moon.”
Mia huffed a quiet laugh, following her deeper into the boutique.
The shop was warm, softly lit, filled with flowing fabrics and delicate designs that hung like pieces of art. Every dress shimmered in some way—threaded with subtle magic meant to catch light, enhance movement, or reflect the moon during ceremonies.
Perfect for the Alpha Ball.
Not perfect for Mia.
“I don’t want something… stiff,” Mia said, running her fingers along a rack of gowns. “Or heavy. I want to be able to move.”
“Translation,” Lilly said, not missing a beat, “you don’t want to trip and die in front of the entire pack.”
“Exactly.”
“And also,” Lilly added with a grin, “you want to look hot without trying.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “That is not what I said.”
“That is absolutely what you said.”
A soft voice cut in beside them.
“I may have something that fits both of those concerns.”
They both turned.
The shop owner stood nearby, elegant and poised, her dark hair pulled back neatly, eyes sharp with quiet understanding.
“You’re looking for movement,” she said, studying Mia. “Not structure. Something that responds… rather than restricts.”
Mia hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Exactly.”
The woman smiled faintly. “I thought so. Come with me.”
Lilly leaned in as they followed. “Oh, I love when they say that. It means expensive.”
“Lilly—”
“I’m just preparing you emotionally.”
The owner led them toward the back of the shop, past rows of gowns until she reached a section set slightly apart.
“This piece isn’t on display yet,” she said, carefully pulling a garment from behind a curtain.
Mia’s breath caught.
The dress was deep crimson—rich, almost alive in color. The fabric was soft, layered, flowing like liquid silk. It wasn’t bulky or overly structured; instead, it draped naturally, designed to move with the body rather than against it.
Subtle threads shimmered through it, catching the light—
Not bright.
Not obvious.
But enough that Mia could imagine it beneath the moon.
Glowing.
Lilly went completely still. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Mia whispered.
The owner tilted her head slightly. “It was designed for outdoor ceremonies. It responds to light—particularly moonlight.”
Mia stepped closer, reaching out carefully.
The fabric seemed to shift under her fingers.
Warm.
Alive.
“I’ll try it,” she said softly.
“Obviously,” Lilly muttered.
“LILLY!”
Mia stepped out from behind the dressing curtain, grabbing the edge of the wall for balance as Lilly spun around.
And then—
Silence.
“Oh my God,” Lilly breathed.
Mia shifted awkwardly. “Is it too much?”
“Too much?” Lilly repeated. “You look like you’re about to start a war and win it.”
Mia blinked. “…That’s not comforting.”
“It’s incredible,” Lilly corrected, walking toward her slowly. “Turn.”
Mia turned slightly, the fabric flowing around her legs, catching the light in soft red flickers.
It wasn’t heavy.
It didn’t drag.
It moved.
Like it belonged to her.
“Okay,” Lilly said, pointing. “This is the one. We’re not even pretending to look at anything else.”
Before Mia could respond, the bell above the shop door chimed.
Voices drifted in.
“Oh—Lilly!”
Lilly turned immediately, her face lighting up. “Hey!”
Two figures approached—a girl and a boy, both dressed in casual but polished clothes, clearly familiar.
“You’re shopping already?” the girl asked, smiling.
“Obviously,” Lilly said. “Priorities.”
They laughed.
Mia stood where she was.
Forgotten.
Ignored.
The boy glanced briefly in her direction—but only for a second before his attention snapped back to Lilly.
“She’s been talking about the Ball nonstop,” he teased.
“Because it’s important,” Lilly shot back.
“Important to find your soulmate?” the girl smirked.
“Important to look better than everyone else,” Lilly corrected.
More laughter.
Mia shifted slightly, her fingers tightening against the dress.
This again.
Always like this.
Present—but not included.
Seen—but not noticed.
Lilly didn’t mean to.
She never did.
But it still—
“…I’ll go change,” Mia said quietly.
No one really responded.
Mia stepped out from the dressing room a few minutes later, now back in her own clothes, the crimson dress carefully folded and tucked into a garment bag the shop owner had prepared.
It felt heavier now.
Not physically—
But like it meant something.
Like it was waiting.
“Tell me you got it,” Lilly said immediately, spinning around.
Mia lifted the bag slightly.
Lilly gasped. “Yes. Good. I would have fought you if you didn’t.”
“I believe that,” Mia said dryly.
Behind them, the bell chimed again as Nick and Cassi started toward the door.
“See you tonight?” Cassi called, already halfway out.
“Maybe!” Lilly shot back. “If I don’t die from excitement first.”
Nick laughed. “Tragic.”
They waved, the door closing behind them.
The shop felt quieter without them.
Better.
Mia exhaled softly.
“Okay,” Lilly said, clapping her hands together once more. “My turn.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes.”
Before Mia could protest, Lilly had already disappeared behind the dressing curtain, reemerging seconds later in a short, sparkling gold dress.
She struck a dramatic pose.
“Well?”
“You look like you’re about to blind someone,” Mia said.
“Perfect,” Lilly replied, twirling. “That’s the goal.”
She vanished again.
Next came a deep green dress—flowing, elegant, with a high slit.
Lilly paused mid-spin. “Too serious?”
“A little,” Mia admitted.
“Yeah, I feel like I’d have to behave in this,” Lilly said, immediately pulling it off. “Hard pass.”
Mia laughed softly, leaning against the wall as Lilly cycled through dress after dress—some dramatic, some ridiculous, some that made absolutely no sense.
Each one came with commentary.
“This one screams ‘I make bad decisions.’”
“This one says ‘I am the problem.’”
“Oh—this one says ‘I stole this and no one can prove it.’”
“You’re impossible,” Mia said, shaking her head.
“And yet,” Lilly called from behind the curtain, “I am your favorite person.”
Mia’s smile softened.
“That’s true.”
There was a pause.
Then—
Lilly stepped out again.
And this time, she didn’t say anything.
The dress was deep blue—rich, soft, flowing in a way that mirrored the night sky just before darkness fully settled. It hugged in the right places but moved easily, catching the light in subtle waves.
Mia blinked.
“…Oh.”
Lilly turned slowly. “Oh good or oh bad?”
“Definitely good.”
Lilly studied her reflection, tilting her head slightly.
Then she smiled.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “This is the one.”
Mia nodded.
It fit her.
Not loud.
Not overdone.
Just… right.
The shop owner reappeared, already smiling. “I thought you might come back to that one.”
“Of course I did,” Lilly said. “I have excellent taste.”
“Debatable,” Mia murmured.
Lilly bumped her shoulder lightly.
“Admit it—you’d be lost without me.”
Mia glanced at her.
At the easy confidence. The warmth. The way Lilly filled every space without trying.
Then she looked down at the garment bag in her hands.
At the deep red fabric hidden inside.
“Yeah,” she said quietly.
“I would.”
- Writer
