Here are the aesthetics for this chapter and the next one coming next week 💋

''Cause I wanna wrap you up

Wanna kiss your lips

I wanna make you feel wanted

And I wanna call you mine

Wanna hold your hand forever

And never let you forget it

Yeah, I wanna make you feel wanted'

"Wow... you're beautiful... both..."

"Thank you," I replied, my cheeks tickling with a smile, mostly for Rachel as Gordon hadn't thrown a glance at my outfit.

But I didn't mind; I was so happy to see my friend's grin. She deserved it after the last few days.

"Shall we go?" Gordon smoothed his bow tie, which by the way was in the same color as my friend's eyes and A-line dress.

They were really the perfect cute couple, even more as he extended his hand, and they both blushed at the faint contact of their skins.

I was surprised they remembered me when Rachel turned to me. "Um–"

"Go and have fun." I shooed them away before she could offer me her big puppy eyes.

After all, it was why we'd planned this, and time was too precious to waste. She knew this better than anyone after her brother's injury, and now that he would come home soon to watch over her.

"Don't worry about me. My date will be here at any minute. I'll see you inside," I added to finally make them move.

They were both too sweet, and I could see them glancing over their shoulders – when they weren't lost in each other's eyes – as they walked away.

It wasn't like I was lost, and actually, I was quickly found, my white dress catching attention on the dim sidewalk.

I would have liked to have some time to prepare myself, but the faint sound of steps and an unsure breath were already echoing behind me, and there was no doubt it was for me as I felt a gaze grazing my skin, making my heart jump.

"Spencer," I uttered softly as I turned around, finally meeting his warm brown eyes and finding his spicy perfume, though I hadn't even needed those details to recognize him. It was just something about his presence so familiar that I could never mistake him; it was imprinted in my senses.

"Gosh... you're breath-taking..." There, the compliment, as well as all his attention, were really for me and my tulle ballgown, and all the efforts Rachel and I had made from the discreet cat-eye liner highlighting the bright green of my eyes to the tips of my painted nails and cream strappy heels were appreciated in detail with the round trips of his gaze along my silhouette.

"Thank you, you too... look handsome," I replied, a little too breathlessly as my eyes took in quickly his appearance, already catching how perfectly his suit was hugging his strong figure and how his jacket was in the exact same pearly white as my dress, as if it had been planned.

Oh right, it had been planned months ago, when I'd confessed it to him, so sure that the only things that could change were the fresh flowers of the bouquet, depending on the weather, and as my gaze fell on the pale roses and lilies of the valley in his hands, it appeared so far away.

"It's for you." He held out the small bouquet, like always, catching my gaze and the trail of my thoughts before I was even fully there, and actually, he may have caught more as my comeback came out with an empty breath.

"Shouldn't you give it to your girlfriend? I'm not sure she'll be happy to find out you're offering me flowers?" I glanced around the parking lot in search of a familiar silhouette, but there were only a few couples arriving and passing us by, too caught in each other or just in the fairy lights bordering the path to the front door, and my gaze was back on Spencer soon enough to watch him swallow harshly my words.

"I don't have a girlfriend, and I don't have a date. There's no one else than my princess for me."

It was my turn to gulp down his smooth words and everything that fluttered inside at the nickname.

Fancy ballgown, pants covered in mud, or pirate's eye patch, he always looked at me with that special shine.

"And I don't want to go to prom with anyone else than you," he added as if his extended hand and tender brown eyes weren't saying it all, and the silence following was even louder.

We were taken back to all the times we'd imagined that night of celebration and freedom. I'd always seen us going together, exactly like that: him, standing in his neat tuxedo, black elegant pants and bow tie, white shirt and jacket before me, even though he would have showed up at my door, greeting politely my parents, not without having passed by my bedroom before to leave me a little message of course. 

But I wasn't even looking at the dark surroundings, only illuminated with the street lamps and some car headlights, as the amber shades were dazzling me, exactly like I'd always pictured.

"And I thought that maybe... if you don't have–"

"I have a date." Just like that, the fantasy was broken, and everything making this present reality hit me: the shadows falling on his gaze that weren't desire, the handles of the bag I was holding preventing me from grabbing the bouquet, the spark of orangey light on the other side of the parking lot, and the skip of my heart as I recognized the tall figure leaning against a car.

"Dorothy, can–"

"No, it's not the time to talk. My date is waiting for me." If I'd already been determined to end this conversation before, knowing Blade was here made me even more rushed. "And I can't accept your flowers, sorry..." My eyes fell on the pale bouquet he was holding like onto our past plans, and the grip for me was in my chest.

Yet I still walked away, the strong thuds of my heart driving me and reminding me that I couldn't reach for new opportunities if I was holding on to memories, and although it could have been, for once, this saying wasn't from Grandpa.

The few meters wide of the parking lot became some sort of metaphorical walk from the past to the present, and it was definitely too short, even in my heels. I was still struggling to open up my ribcage that the sight of Blade's cigarette made me suffocate again, especially as I tried to make out if it was new or consumed, if he had been here for long or not.

I had my answer when I reached him, and he threw it down, stubbing it out. It had been long enough for a taste sourer than tobacco to invade the back of my throat, and it echoed in my hoarse voice.

"Hi."

I hadn't done anything wrong, of course; I'd just been talking to an old best friend for a few minutes, but it felt wrong, and even more as he slowly lifted his head to me, giving me a perfect view of his clenching jaw.

"Fuck... I was right to bring my gun." His penetrating eyes met my wide ones, and the look there was indeed killer, though not exactly the one I would have expected as a slow smile stretched his lips. "You're dazzling." He chuckled under his breath, the raspy laugh sounding like knocked out of his chest, even if I doubted it could be as strong as what was happening inside my own ribcage.

I realized how frozen I had been for a second as his smoldering gaze roamed down my body again, and I could feel the chemical reaction of fusion happening on every part it crossed. It resulted in delicious shivers under my dress and thrilling sparks on the exposed skin, and I suddenly became hyper-aware of those naked inches from my ankles showing under the tulle of my gown to my bare arms and the popping freckles appearing more and more as my satin shawl was sliding off my shoulders.

"Thank you..." I caught the cloth before it could fall on the ground, trying to catch the melting mess I was becoming too as I averted my eyes down.

But it wasn't a better idea. I'd been so captivated by his eyes that I hadn't got the chance to see the rest of his appearance, and if the darkening blue expanse was already dangerous, when I was starting to get used to it, I was swept away in front of his unusual outfit.

He was wearing a tuxedo, a black tuxedo, and the smooth fabric that should have looked misfitted on someone used to leather and jeans was only sharpening and contrasting with his aura. The tight and surprisingly pulled-down collar of his shirt was accentuating the angles of his jaw, and the jacket, just a little too small, was letting guess too many distractions already – muscles and tattoos. Actually, some inks were even peeking out on his wrists and neck, and with his quiff, it completed perfectly the black outfit.

In short, he still looked dark, handsome, and more dangerous than ever, and it wasn't only because we were standing in a far corner of the parking lot. I was sure the slick black would stand out even more in the bright ballroom, while the few clearer parts would catch all the lights, in his eyes, his white shirt, his bandage, and the metal handle of the gun in his hand.

"You brought a gun?!" I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth as I processed his words from seconds ago and the gun he was holding out. "Are you crazy?!" 

My wides eyes shot around, making sure no one could catch a twinkle of light reflecting in the metal, and luckily, there was no one in sight; I wasn't even feeling a particular pair of eyes on my back anymore.

"Take it," he insisted, extending his hand like it was a casual gift.

Okay, maybe for us, it was, and we were starting to get used to this ritual when we went to the Drillin' bar. But here, we weren't in the East side, and there was no danger in the banquet ballroom of Subrose.

"Trust me, in this dress, it's safer because I'm already having a lot of bad intentions..." He leaned closer as if to prove his point with the goosebumps he was arising on my skin. "And if you want me to behave, it's the only thing that'll stop me." His other hand reached over to tug lightly on my shawl and expose the naked part of my shoulder, right before my off-shoulder sleeve, letting me feel a spark of the bad intentions shining in his dark gaze, and at the same time, he pushed the gun in my hand.

Once more, he was being too careless around the sparking mess I was.

"You're crazy," I breathed out when he pulled away, though I knew I was too as I accepted the gun reluctantly, and it wasn't because of the danger that I hesitated before putting it in my clutch bag.

The thrill was tickling my insides, almost as much as the curiosity. Did I really want him to behave?

"It's for later..." I replied to his lifted eyebrow at my large cheerleading bag I was still holding in my other hand, and maybe it was also the answer to my own questions as I remembered all the things I'd packed there, and a small smile appeared on my lips.

The night was just starting, and maybe we would find some time for his bad intentions... later.

"Can I leave it in Marylin?" I added as he was already taking the bag from my arm, his gaze once more lingering on my body, but it wasn't the same darkness as it reached my wrist.

I'd used a lot of make-up, but he wasn't duped.

"I have something else for you."

A knife? Another forbidden weapon? Did he have more bad intentions? I didn't doubt it, though I hadn't used the gun on our first encounter, and I didn't plan on doing it tonight either.

I was about to stop him, yet he'd already opened the car's door, throwing my bag on the passenger seat and leaning in to grab something near the steering wheel, and I didn't even get to blink the steamy flashbacks coming with the squeak of the seat that he was back in front of me like a sharp contrast. That was always the word with him, and I didn't know if I would ever be able to catch my breath. But it wouldn't be tonight with the impact in my chest as I stared at the item in his hand.

"I think that's something you wear at prom." The man who had just put a gun in my hand was also the one who had made delicate shapes to wrap around my wrist.

It was his contrast, just like he could offer me that smug smile and wash over me with the transparency of his gaze.

"You made it for me?" That wasn't even a question. I recognized instantly the curves and angles in the fine wood. But my brain had trouble processing the fact that he'd made a corsage for me in less than 24 hours.

"Yeah, it's nothing... It's not even real flowers, and you're not forced to wear it."

He'd seen Spencer and me, and the bouquet, and if there was no crack in his strong facade letting me guess what he was thinking, there was definitely in my voice as I cut him off,

"Of course, I want to wear it! It's perfect... unique, beautiful..." I tried to find words to let him see it didn't need real, ephemeral flowers when the fine curves of wood had been arranged to form a unique bouquet; I tried to make him realize his potential, as Pete would have said. But words seemed pointless.

"And there's a shooting star!" I softly pointed my finger to the single string of wood in the middle that ended into a little star, a detail that was saying it all.

It was as rare, precious, and magical, and mostly, it made my soaring heart shoot straight to the sky, or maybe, to his eyes as I peered up at him.

"Can you put it on me?" I advanced my right wrist, and at that instant, the blue appeared as mystical as the infinite of the universe with the darkness, sparks of lights, and so many emotions that I couldn't catch them all.

I recognized surprise, deviousness, brewing anger, and... tenderness, and I could feel so much more as he grabbed my other wrist, starting to wrap the corsage around, and I sucked in a shallow breath at the contrasting sensations on my bruised skin.

"Does it hurt?" His frown sharpened instantly, his movements stopping as if afraid to hurt me more.

But it was the contrary, the fabric of the bracelet was so smooth that it felt like a cloudy bandage on the still sore marks, just like his touch actually, and what was catching my breath was watching the bracelet wrap perfectly around the concealed bruises. It was like he'd made it to sublimate my broken parts and turn them into a million tiny sparks.

"No," I whispered softly as I was only feeling those tiny sparks on my skin, and literally, when he left a kiss exactly on the most tender part.

When he released my hand, it was even lighter than I'd expected, and I was the one afraid to damage it with my softest movement, though the bracelet seemed secure and sturdy. 

"You're so talented with your hands." The words came out naturally with the beats of my heart, just wanting to compliment him, but when they passed my lips, I instantly realized I was boosting something else, and as his mischievous smile was stretching, I knew the tenderness was gone, giving way to the pointed innuendos coming.

So I decided to be sharper. "Let's go! We're already late." I tugged him by the hand, though I could still hear his smug smile as I led him to the front door, and a distant music reached us. 

And the night is just starting... 😏

What do you think Dorothy has planned? What will happen? 🤔👀 Let me know all your suppositions!

And also tell me about these fragile bouquets? Which one is your favorite? (Do I even need to ask? 😅)

If you liked this chapter, and can't wait for the next one, don't forget to vote ⭐ and comment!

PS: I know I make you wait a lot for this story, but it's because we're getting close to the important parts, and I want to make everything perfect for you, my little shooting stars 🌠😘🤫