𝐏𝐓 | ❝𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘳❞.
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Your life was never meant to turn out that way.
But the question here is: is anything ever meant to be?
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°•.various x fem!reader.•°
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⚠️𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀:⚠️...
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About half of the day had passed and your face still turned cherry red when you recalled that shameless comment Sanzu shot at you, almost making you fall face-first onto the counter. Thank God you had good reflexes and two capable hands and could grab the edges to support yourself immediately. Still, that doesn't imply that you didn't feel so embarrassed that you almost asked your friend the favor to come and continue your own job with the quartet.
It was starting to get on your nerves how Sanzu referred to you using those pet names and some of his out-of-the-line comments weren't making things any better. Not really taking into account at the moment that he sometimes looked like a total psycho; those eyes which bored into you with a twisted malicious glint, or that smile he usually flashed towards your direction, thinking you didn't notice, but you did, and it made every little fibre of your body tense.
"If you continue combing your hair, I fear you're gonna tear your head apart", Sasha said while looking at you through the reflection of the mirror in front of her while she applied some mascara on her long lashes. That worked out well as it took you out of your nerve-racking thoughts, placing down your hair brush. Your locks styled in beautiful loose waves that perfectly framed your face. Your makeup natural, as you didn't like how your face looked with so much product on it. You just applied a bit of concealer on the spots that it was needed; a bit of eyeliner to make your eyes look foxy like; mascara to highlight your long lashes; brow gel to make your brows stand out a bit, but still looking natural; a bit of gloss on your plump lips to make them look juicy and a little bit of blush to make your cheeks look rosier. You didn't need anything else as you were beautiful as you were. The makeup just highlighting more your features.
"That dress looks so good on you", you truthfully said as you looked at your friend's wardrobe choice, the black attire tight and loose on the necessary spots, highlighting her curves, "I don't know, you know I'm not very keen on wearing anything that has a skirt", rolling your eyes at her reply you just started dressing, "oh, shut up already, you look amazing", Sasha chose not to carry on with the conversation as she knew that you wouldn't change your opinion, besides, she thought that she didn't look that bad, finding herself happy with the outfit.
You, on the other side, were making your best effort to zip your own dress up, your friend helping you out when she saw your struggling form, giving her a relieved "thank you" as you felt the zipper going up your back, the material cold against your skin at first, making the hairs on your arms stand. Tugging a bit at the ends of the dress, you made a small pout, "Isn't it a bit short?", you asked not feeling really comfortable about it at first. "Girl, turn your ass around and look in the mirror, you look disgustingly stunning", Sasha said as she looked at you with an incredulous expression.
