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Post by sophie on Feb 4, 2009 12:04:56 GMT 10
don't act like you don't know what's bound to happen now.
Sophia Clowes was currently at a stand-still.
With her hands placed on her bare hips, the blonde stared into the depths of her bottomless closet, her brows furrowed in frustration. Usually, for a dinner date, she would opt for a fitting pair of black skinny jeans paired with a classy top, or perhaps a skirt and top, or even a dress, which she had many of. However, for this particular dinner date, none of her expensive clothes seemed good enough. She had been thinking about the mood Prescott had set by simply telling her his limousine would be there to pick her up. In New York, she had her limo drive her everywhere. In Seattle, she didn’t know if anyone even knew of a limousine. Then again, Prescott the Viscount knew of nothing but royal customs, which brought Sophie back to the beginning. She had exactly forty-five minutes to find an outfit and pair it with shoes; something she was usually highly capable of doing. Perhaps things would have been easier if he wouldn’t have commented on ‘dressing up for him’. Now, Sophie had to find a way to dress up without giving him the pleasure of thinking she did so just for him. That, she had decided, would be catastrophic, and if she was planning on taking orders from him, she might as well resign from being a Clowes and move to the south. Things needed to look effortless, like his words hadn’t effected her in the slightest.
As if responding to her desperate pleas, a glimpse of utter perfection caught her eye. Hanging in the back of her and Neve’s joined closet, brand new and never washed, was a garment draped in confidence and beauty. The clear bag it sat inside bore the Chanel logo, or in this case, the stamp of her savior. With careful hands, Sophie took the little black dress off the hook and carried it away from the other clothes; all of which looked extremely plain and unimportant. The dress, if it was even long enough to still be considered a dress, must have belonged to Neve and been gifted at one of her photo shoots. Where ever it came from, the elder of the twins decided, it must have been designed for this night and this night only. Delicately, the blonde slipped it over her bare body, breathing in as the black material snugly hugged her bust, it’s strapless top fitting to her slender torso. The hem, sporting a discrete slit that edged just slightly farther up her right thigh, pulled tight against her slim legs. As she stepped into her plain, black pumps, Sophie smiled and turned to stare at herself in the mirror. Twenty-five minutes left.
Out of her purse, she pulled a single Chanel earring bearing the exact sign that had so conveniently saved her night. However, the other was no where to be found. “Neve!” Sophie called, stepping out of the room and peaking her head over the banister. “My other earring better not be in your ear.” She muttered, crossing her arms as she waited for her twin to come flying up the stairs. She would be surprised, certainly, as Sophie hadn’t yet managed to mention her dinner date with Prescott. Actually, she thought telling her as she ran out the door was a better idea. Objections, no matter how much she valued her twin’s opinion, were unnecessary.
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