mostly faded to slender white lines. Tomorrow, those white lines will likely be gone. Another thing to be thankful for. He pushes open the door for me and motions for me to enter first.
My skin brushes against him as I try to slip by him in the small space. I try not to make the way my breathing catches in my throat too noticeable, but I'm sure he can see the goosebumps that run up my arms from the contact.
Inside the little room are piles of clothing. Nothing is hung on hangers or folded neatly. Heaps of clothing, upon heaps of clothing. The room smells musty and ancient. My mouth falls open and I turn to Lincoln.
"How are we supposed to find clothes in this mess?"
"Think of it like an adventure." His large frame fills the entire doorway as he shuffles in and starts picking through the clothes.
"I think I've already had enough adventure..." I mumble, but start picking up pieces and holding them up to see if they look warm and could possibly fit me. "Couldn't we just make warm clothes appear?"
"Do you know where warm clothes would be? Isn't the closet in the Iron Court filled with dresses? And I don't own very many shirts...these women practically dress like men anyway." He shrugs.
I hold up a leather jacket with gold buckles along the sleeves. Maybe to hold knives? Either way, this seems like a garment I would like to wear. I slip my arms into it, my mouth puckering at the wafting unpleasant scent it brings.
Lincoln hums, somewhat cheerfully as he squints at item after item. I reach for a large, brown fur coat, content to listen to him. It works well for Lincoln and I... the way one can be positive when the other cannot. He is the proper Yin to my Yang... I think with fondness.
"Ah! Found the perfect one." In a blur of movement, he shoves his arms into the sleeves and pulls a shirt over his wide chest. With his arms wide, he does a little spin, showing off his find with pride. He dons a hot pink, long sleeve shirt with ruffles that hide the buttons. The cuffs are buttoned with large clear stones, reminiscent of diamonds.
Spit flies from my mouth as I sputter a laugh. "You can't be serious."
"Why wouldn't I be serious, Briar?" He takes a step closer, and fluffs the ruffles.
"Oh, fine. Wear it. I dare you."
His hand clutches his chest. "I never back down from a dare." He wags his finger at me. "Now help me find a coat like what you have that will fit me so I don't freeze my dick off."
"Oh, we wouldn't want that."
"No, we wouldn't." He shuffles through more clothes. "It'll be hard to find something as broad as I am."
"Oh, a couple of ladies up there are built like linebackers, I think you'll be able to find something. Though, it's a shame we have to cover up your new shirt at all."
We swim through the sea of clothes, mounds upon mounds of odd and end pieces. It takes nearly a hundred attempts of Lincoln putting on a coat and three attempts that result in his shoulders and arms getting stuck before we find something that truly fits. A large black coat with the hood lined with fur eventually shrugs over his shoulders wide enough that he isn't 'hulking' out of it. He didn't understand the reference when I used it.
Sweat builds under the many layers as we move around the tiny room and laugh at one another. When we finally leave, we both shrug out of the coats but keep them strung over our arms. Lincoln still proudly wears his hot pink ruffled top. I do have to admit... it does look rather good on him.
We have to move in a single file up the stairs, Lincoln’s frame would not allow for anything else. With each creaking step the volume of the cheering crew on the top deck grows.
Midday sun covers us. I raise my hand to block the light from my eyes, though I quickly realize that I don't need to do so as my eyesight adjusts quickly. The entirety of the crew fills the main deck. A few of them are steady at work, but the majority are gathered in front of Johanna, who holds a small guitar. She plucks at the strings, listening intently to the sound and twists the small knobs at the top of the instrument to tune