Saturday afternoon, I stood in front of the mirror, trying to decide between two dresses.
"The blue one," Fao said from the doorway.
I looked at him. He was wearing the clothes we'd bought specifically for this occasion — dark slacks, a button-down shirt, and the slide-on slippers instead of actual shoes. My mother was going to throw a fit if she noticed, but they were the best option. The sandals were too casual for dinner, and everything else was a "foot trap" according to Fao. He looked... human. Devastatingly handsome, but human.
"You sure? The green one is more conservative."
"The blue one makes your eyes look like the sky." He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around me from behind, meeting my gaze in the mirror. "Wear it."
"Okay." I leaned back into him. "You look good, by
