It made no sense for her to spend all of her time in our rooms when she owned it. We should be the ones heading to hers, forgetting our clothes, and walking up the hall naked the next morning. She should get to pick out how hard or soft the bed was and how thick the pillows would be. Mostly because my girlfriend deserved to have a home of her own.
I was looking through the racks of pajama bottoms, lounge pants, and workout clothes when Sia stepped out of the dressing room. I looked up at the movement, and my mouth immediately fell open. Damn, but she looked good.
"Does it pass inspection?" I asked.
She turned before me, twisting first one way and then the next. "I think so," she said. "Knee-length shouldn't raise any eyebrows, the neckline doesn't show any cleavage, and it doesn't exactly cling to my body."
That was where she was wrong. No, it wasn't made of spandex or anything, but the cloth draped around her curves just right. Granted, in my opinion, she would look sexy in a burlap sack. But this dress was perfect. My only regret was that I probably wouldn't be the one taking it off of her.
"Personally, I love it," I admitted. "But before you change out of that, tell me something. Yoga pants, sweats, or these things they call loungewear?" I asked, holding up a pair of the latter.
"For what?" She asked.
"To hide in our rooms. You know, so you don't have to run down the hall naked."
"Lounge pants," she said as she turned back for the dressing room.
The best part was that she didn't try to tell me not to buy them. Every day, she got a little more used to us wanting to spoil her. Slowly but surely, she was realizing that there was no need to resist. We weren’t trying to bribe her. We didn't need to. We liked her for who she was, and we wanted her to like us the same way. This? It was basically all we knew.
Eventually, she came back out in her own clothes, holding one of the dresses. "You were right," she admitted. "It's a size ten. I still want my T-shirts in a large, though."
"I figured." I took the dress from her hands and added it to the growing pile I was carrying. "So, what else do we need?"
"Groceries," she said adamantly.
"After clothes," I assured her. "And I have a feeling that you need a lot more than just this."
"Shoes," she decided. "Because I do not have anything at all that will go with that dress. My running shoes are trashed, and I've always wanted a pair of those cute little rhinestone-covered flip flops."
I just tipped my head towards the corner of the store that had the footwear. "Go start looking, and I'm gonna set this on the counter."
She almost skipped away like a little kid who was told they could have free run of the toy aisle. I had a feeling half of it was her trying to pretend like she wasn't feeling guilty, but I'd take it. A while back, Bel had said something that made so much sense to me. Sia felt things stronger than most people.
I didn't know if it was because she was the Ayala, or if it had to do with her being a Muse, or maybe it was this whole Devil thing. Although, it didn't matter. The simple fact was that her power was tied directly to her emotions, and she had more power than any of us could even imagine. It only made sense that she would also feel things stronger than we could wrap our minds around. So, what would make most people feel a little guilty was almost crippling for Sia. This woman was all heart, for good or for bad, and I was willing to take both sides.
Looking back, I could see that this was why she’d had so much trouble accepting that all of this was possible. It had never been about us. It had always been about her own insecurities, and the fact that her doubts didn't whisper to her, they screamed. Considering that no one else in the legion needed me to help them through their problems right now, that meant I could turn my complete attention to helping her get over this. And she was. Every day, she believed in not only herself a little more, but also the rest of us.
As I made my way back