Shut Up And Kiss Me (Loki x Darcy)

Under My Skin

Darcy stared down at herself, unconvinced. Perhaps choosing this particular dress was a  bad call on her part, and she was most definitely regretting her decision to not try it on first.

The problem was, the mannequin in the store didn't have the generous bosom that she had been blessed with -- although at times like this she considered it as more of a curse than a blessing.

The black cord that criss-crossed over the front, was supposed to keep the dress fastened and the wearers' boobs securely contained without exposing too much flesh.
However on her, it wouldn't lace-up as tightly as it was meant to, which meant her cleavage was now very much on display as a result of this plunging 'neckline' and if it dipped any lower, she feared it would be subterranean.
Also, the cord wasn't long enough to tie properly, so as it strained precariously across her chest, she was more than just a bit concerned about everything falling out.

Damn.

Still, there was nothing she could do about it now. She didn't have anything else fancy to wear, and Loki was already on the warpath because of her taking so long to get ready.

Having bought some makeup from one of the boutiques in Camden, she had succeeded in achieving a sexy, sultry look. Her makeover had consisted of contouring Himalayan cheekbones, creating a striking smokey-eye effect using black eyeliner, shadow and lashings of mascara, and the deep red lipgloss accentuated her already full, plump pout.

But it wasn't -- she told herself -- for his benefit. She was just going all-out for the fun of it.

Greg never really approved of her wearing too much makeup, or showing any cleavage.
But Greg wasn't here, and she was suddenly desperate to party it up like she used to, back before she started dating him. Before his opinion and preferences began to mean so much.
Darcy wasn't an attention seeker by any means, and she didn't particularly enjoy men ogling her, but she wouldn't allow their sleaziness to get in the way of her having a good time. And she certainly wouldn't let it stop her from wearing whatever she liked.

She paused for a moment then, wondering when she'd started to absentmindedly dilute certain aspects of her personality just to pacify Greg.
After all, it wasn't as if he made any effort to be more exciting for her.
He had a penchant for navy clothing, and a sensible short back-and-sides haircut. But Darcy had never attempted to change him. She just accepted him the way that he was. So why hadn't he accepted her?

He'd complained so much about her having the occasional social cigarette, she'd quit smoking altogether. And whilst that could easily be argued he was perhaps just generally concerned for her health, the way he used to sniff her clothes for tell-tale signs of smoke, was a bit much. Especially when he'd shout at her if he thought he could detect even the faintest whiff.
And when she had mentioned how much she wanted another tattoo, he had threatened to dump her, claiming that he didn't find tattoos attractive. Which was kind of a dick thing to say, considering Darcy already had an 'Alice In Wonderland' inspired quote, inked on her lower back. And she desperately wanted a lightning strike, or tiger stripes, or something, to cover her.....well. She didn't want to dwell on that right now, it would only put a dampener on her mood.

She was feeling rebellious tonight. And daring. Fuelled by wine and the confidence-boost her makeover had given her.
She was her own woman. And she shouldn't be dictated to.
The fact that she regularly backed down with Greg in order to avoid an argument, was so out of character, and she knew it deep-down. The problem was, she couldn't understand why. All she knew was, that by looking herself over in the mirror now, she needed to reclaim herself. And Greg would just have to suck it up.

Yep. The effects of the alcohol she'd drank over dinner -- not to mention the few glasses of wine she'd had whilst getting ready -- was definitely starting to kick-in.
She often followed this similar train of thought and routine. First came the self-contemplation, followed by an epiphany and rush of conviction. Now she felt ready to take on the world and win.
Alcohol could be a marvellous thing.