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"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!"

Hunk leapt up into the air, clutching his heart. "PIDGE, WHAT IN THE—"

Pidge turned her seat around, facing him. She had the biggest smirk on her face, with bugged-out eyes. Hunk was scared and confused—nothing new. They were both hanging out in the Green Lion—well, more like spying, actually.

"KEITH AND (Y/N) HUGGED, THEY'RE FINALLY STARTING TO LIKE EACH OTHER!!!" Pidge was shaking like a chihuahua that had just gotten electrocuted. She was probably on the verge of a heart attack. Hunk attempted to calm her down.

"Uhm, do you think it's right for us to be stalking them—"

"SHHHHHHHH—DO YOU HEAR THAT?" Pidge slapped her hand over his mouth. When he felt her touch, it reminded him of an amplifier since she was vibrating so much. "IT'S THE WINDS OF CHANGE~"

"Pidge, no."

Meanwhile, you relaxing on the bed in the hotel. This time, you were wondering what to wear. Keith hadn't confirmed the location yet, so you decided to ask him. You sent him a discreet text from your phone, asking:

'Where are we even going for the date?'

He must have not noticed, because there was no reply yet. You glanced over in his direction, only to find him reading a magazine. That's when you threw the TV remote at him. Once he finally noticed you—you held up your phone and slightly shook it, signaling for him to check his messages.

"Fine," he mouthed. After waiting for a minute, he responded.

'There's a rodeo happening in San Antonio tonight. It'll be fun.'

You've never been to a rodeo before—all you knew was that they rode cows. Why not? You texted back:

'Alright...as long as the others aren't tagging along, I don't really care where we go."

The thing was, you didn't know what to wear. Of course, it didn't have to be formal or anything—but you wanted to at least look nice. That's when you realized you needed to get another girl involved—a girl with style. And Pidge was obviously not the answer.

"I am flattered that you think I have style. It's not every day I get to make over a fellow girl friend," Allura stated, smiling. "If I may ask, what is the special event?"

"Uhm. . ." You were having a hard time trying to think of an excuse. So, you just blurted the first thing you thought of. "Gonna hit on some hot boys at the local Wendy's!"

". . ." Allura had no words. You gave her a cringy thumbs-up, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

"Look, just make me appear not hideous," you described, lolling back in the chair you were sitting in.

"Don't worry. I'll make you look just right," she assured.

Allura flipped through several fashion magazines, getting some inspiration of her own. After picking out a top, bottom, and shoes—she sent Coran to buy the ensemble from some local stores. You were just hoping she didn't make you look like an extravagant princess or anything. After a while, Coran came back.

"Thank you! These are lovely." Allura held up the articles of clothing, showing them off to you.

To be honest, it looked pretty stylish—yet casual and comfortable. The top was slim and sleeveless, completed with a (F/C) plaid pattern.
For the pants: it was a skinny pair of black acid-wash jeans. It looked simple yet edgy—because yeah.
And lastly, the shoes: they were combat boots, the shade of (F/C). Their soles were as heavy as a burden, the outer part was strong enough to crush the dreams of a child.

"This is great," you expressed.

"I'm glad you like it!" Allura cheered. "We haven't even gotten started on your hair and makeup yet." She rummaged around in her makeup case, searching for a color that would suit the overall aesthetic. "Do you have any accessories you'd like to wear?"

You answered, "Uh, I have these earrings—which I can't get off—and this necklace."

Allura turned and saw the necklace you were referring to. "My, that's lovely. Where did you get it?"

". . .Keith bought it for me."

The sounds of Allura's hands searching through scattered makeup stopped. She smugly smirked upon hearing your answer. "Oh, really~?"

Oh, great. Another one. However, you tried to make a smooth recovery. "He. . .got it for me so I'd stop talking to him. Yeah. Nothing sentimental at all."

Allura didn't believe you though. She could see through it. But she kept quiet this time. . .

"Well, I do hope you have a good time hitting on boys," she responded, playing along.

Awkward.

Anyway, after that—she applied your makeup. She used mainly natural colors, and plenty of eyeliner. It looked pretty good though. After that, it was time for hairstyling!

Boring.

"What kind of do do you want me to do? Hehe!"

Please—no more puns.

"I dunno, just don't make me look like a normie."

She shrugged and did something cool with it. It was something you chose from Pinterest. After some time, she was finally done—except for adding last touches and such.

"At last," Allura put her hands together. "My masterpiece is done." She turned your chair around, making it face the mirror. Once you saw yourself—you were astonished. You looked stunning.

"Is. . .is that me?" you breathed. Allura nodded—trying to hide her excitement. Standing up, you spun around to view yourself from all over. "Allura! You're—you're a miracle-worker!! How—"

"Oh, you know. Just a girl thing~" she answered with a wink. You were still left speechless.

To complete the look, she painted your nails black—along with adding some perfume that smelled of Gothic roses and unresolved issues. Lovely scent. Nonetheless, you loved the theme Allura set up for you.

Finally, evening approached. You didn't realize it would take so long to get ready. The nervousness was overtaking you. I mean, this was your first date! What if something went terribly wrong? Unbeknownst to you, Allura saw past your poker face. She knew more was going on than just a random trip to Wendy's.

"(Y/N)," she started all of the sudden. "Don't fret. It will go great."

You nodded, becoming a bit suspicious of her yourself. However, you let it slide. Your heart began to beat faster—but you tried reassuring yourself.

It's okay, (Y/N). It's only a little date. . .it's not like it'd matter if Keith rejected you anyway—right? Let's just hope for the best.

Keith was waiting near a lamppost which was somewhat close to the inn. He checked his watch every few minutes—wondering if you had just bailed on him. However, his paranoia stopped when someone finally showed up. Off in the distance, you promenaded down the pavement to meet up with him. Once the artificial lighting struck upon your figure—Keith's eyes widened.

The slight breeze made your volumized hair flow in the wind, which revealed your face. The expression you wore was shy—yet somber. Keith felt his heart skip a beat, which only made him try to look away—though he couldn't. He's never seen you look so formidable and irresistible before. You shifted your gaze from the ground to him.

He looked hot. Yeah, no regrets. It's not like he could hear your thoughts anyway. Unless you were in Twilight—but that's beside the point. At this time, you came to a stop. You and Keith were both facing each other, trying to avoid eye contact.

"You uh. . ." Keith crossed his arms in a sheepish fashion. "You look nice." Though in his mind, the adjective nice was an understatement.

"As for you, Keith," you downplayed.

There was an unpleasant pause for what seemed years—though it was only a few seconds.

"Alright, let's go—I guess." Keith entered the van, along with you.

The drive felt tense. Keith only focused on the road, while you stared out the window. Your anxiety was just casually abusing you.

That's when Keith finally ruptured the quietness.

"Actually, the term nice is a minimization."

You turned to him, curious.

He genuinely smiled. "You look. . .beautiful."

The cold demeanor you were portraying melted when you heard him utter those words. You've never been called beautiful before—not in a sincere way at least. Your eyes twinkled with fondness, which caused him to blush.

"As for you, Keith—I MEAN—" You facepalmed. He only chuckled.

"It's okay, I know what you meant."

This was going to be an interesting date. . .