Aoi forced me to try on a pair of horrendous, green, skinny jeans. I’m NOT feeling them. He chortles from behind the curtain, tapping his foot against the floor as if he’s growing impatient. These pants make me look stupid.
“I look ridiculous!”
“You’re being dramatic, Visha. Come out now,” he orders, sounding like an annoying older brother that wants his charger back.
Therefore, I push the curtain wide open and curse myself for the embarrassing sight I’m about to show him.
“Ah, well. Yeah, never mind you were right. It’s horrible!” He slaps his hand over his mouth trying to hold back his laughter but fails miserably.
He cackles at the vomit-colored pants, and it’s contagious. His smiles, his laugh, his good energy. All of them are infectious.
“I told you so.” I cross my arms over my chest and wait for him to allow me to change back into anything other than this monstrosity.
“Sorry, sorry. Let’s find you something less…atrocious.” His lips form a line as he holds back another round of vibrant laughter.
“This store really lacks style,” I mutter through gritted teeth.
He nudges me back into the changing room and takes a tour of the store, attempting to find any other piece of clothing that won’t make me look like the insides of someone’s digestive system.
“What about this? It looks simple and comfortable. Try it on.”
He holds up a simple pair of black bottoms and proudly displays them. Finally, I can get changed into something normal. Why does he insist on making me look like a clown? I yank the item from his hands and rush back into the room, unwilling to let more people see these grotesque pants. The store owner ought to burn them, it’ll do them a favor.
I slip the new pair on, not expecting much but turn out pleasantly surprised to see that not only do they look nice, but they’re also comfortable as Aoi predicted.
“It’s comfy. I don’t hate it.”
Aoi’s eyes crinkle at the corners and with a slight jump he says, “Well then, let’s buy these pants and the sweaters in a bunch of other colors. Mhm, we should probably also get you some shirts and underwear. Oh, and socks, of course.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“Nonsense. It’s more than necessary.”
His bubbly mood is catchy to the point that we manage to attract the attention of other customers. Women and men alike gawk at him as we stroll. He’s attractive by any standard but I didn’t think all eyes would be on him as if he’s some type of celebrity. I can’t really judge because what do I even know anyway?
I peer down at the clothes he piled up in a cart and a sense of guilt sprouts in my gut. “I think you’ve done enough for me. I can’t accept that much.”
“Of course, you can! You don’t have a choice anyway. Your clothes are unwearable, and you’ll need some if you want to live comfortably with me,” he insists, showing no hint of backing down.
He’s stubborn from what I’ve seen till now and I honestly don’t want to argue about mere clothes. “Alright. Thank you.”
We end up buying a dozen pairs of simple shirts of various colors, and five pairs of underwear, and socks. Aoi spent a couple bucks above a hundred for me in just one day and here he’s saying he wants to buy me shoes and winter wear too?
“I seriously think this is enough, Aoi.” He needs to stop his streak now or I’ll end up severely indebted to him.
“Shut up and take my gifts, boy,” he says, mimicking Lord Farquaad’s voice.
I bite back a snort, wondering how he can talk like that with a straight face.
I have every intention of paying him back one day for everything he’s given me but the more he spends, the clearer it becomes that it’ll take me an eternity to reimburse him.
“Fine but stop doing that. People are staring.”
After an hour of arduous shopping, we shove the bags into the trunk of his BMW and drive to a nearby Little Ceasars.
Numerous people hit on him during the whole time we were shopping and now even the waiter is asking for his number! What the hell? I’ve never seen a man hit on another man andeven less the blush that coats Aoi’s face as he politely declines. Am I supposed to simply ignore that?
“Do these kinds of things happen often?” I ask, letting my curiosity get the best of me.
