British Guys Aren't Cute

British Guys Aren't Cute - Chapter Seventeen

WARNING - INVOLVED A RATHER AWKWARD SCENE WRITTEN BY A NUN! (It's not that bad, in like any way, just thought I should give you guys a heads up!)

'I've always felt England was a great place for a comic to work. It's an island and the audience can't run very far,'

Bob Hope (I owe Russia $1200)

Chapter Seventeen

Post 270

So you might of heard, I'm dating the Crown prince. This blog will continue, and I will continue to rant about the British stereotypes, now if you excuse me, I'm going to go drink a cup of tea, eat cucumber sandwich, dig out my top hat and attend a garden party.

"What about this one?" Skye said, holding a dress in her hand. It was long, black and around the neck it had a decorative silver bit. It was gorgeous, but it wasn't for Nora. Nora shook her head at Skye, not giving her a reason why she didn't like the dress before carrying on with her search.

She was looking for a dress to wear to wear to a ball being thrown in her favour, apparently to welcome Nora officially to the family. Nora hated the idea of having it sit in a room full of hundreds of people, and having them all look at her. The idea of it all made her stomach churn.

"Fi, do we really have to do this?" Nora groaned, giving up on the idea of finding a dress, and turning to the queen, who was also trailing through dresses.

"Yes, Nora! For the hundredth time, we have to have a ball with dancing and dresses! Trust me, I'd rather throw a normal kick-ass party with a DJ, proper alcohol, and some weed passing around somewhere, but sadly, it's frowned upon," the queen ranted, clearly not happy that she had to throw a ball. "Besides, it's expected of us! You have to make your public debut anyway and it was a week ago that it was announced that you and Markus were dating! A year in royal terms is a lifetime!"

Nora's face fell to a frown once again as she gave up on finding a dress. She had been searching for a week straight for a dress she liked, and there was not one that she liked fully. The dresses were either 'too slutty' or 'too much like what a 90 year old would year' or 'not appropriate' and there was the occasional 'the designer must have been blind with the fashion sense of a clown'.

"What about this one?" the queen questioned, holding out a midnight blue dress. Nora nodded slightly at it, ready to just buy any random dress. Skye realised that Nora had given up and now didn't care what dress they walked away with.

"DON'T GIVE HER THAT DRESS!" Skye shouted, running in-between the queen and Nora. "She's given up on shopping and now she's just going to buy the first appropriate thing she comes across! Its up to us to find her the perfect dress," Nora let out a groan, dislike towards Skye filling her as she sent evils to her best friend.

"Skye, just let me go! I"m bored!" She groaned.

"No! Go sit over there, Nora!" Skye pointed over to a sofa, which Nora grudgingly walked over to before collapsing onto it. "Right, Queeny! We need to get Nora something to stand out in, I'm thinking red - maybe an Alexander McQueen or a Vivienne Westwood, something from the gold label," she ordered.

"Sounds good! The McQueens are over there and the Westwoods are over in the opposite side, I'll look though McQueen," the queen replied. Nora simply blocked out their shopping talk, before digging a pair of earphones out her pocket and plugging it into her phone and placing the earbuds in her ears, letting the sound of Bon Iver calm her down.

Half an hour later and she felt a stab in her shoulder. She opened her eyes to see the queen and Skye peering down at her, both with an evil glint in their eyes.