What Clothes Should I Wear?

“Hey, what do you think? Is it plain or just enough?” She showed you her fit, a plain white shirt, tucked in, and blue denim pants. You’re at an apparel store on the streetside of Seoul.

“It’s pretty.” You’re talking about her existence; you did not even look at the clothes she was wearing.

“Really? Do I need to put a belt and a clip on my hair?” She’s twirling like a doll in a music box.

“Huh? What belt?” You snapped. You’re daydreaming since you felt dreamy around her.

“Hmp. You’re not looking, aren’t you? Calling me pretty… as if I don’t hear it from you every time.” She whined, well, it’s true that you kept calling her pretty. But where’s the lie? It’s a fact.

You’re down to her pretty badly.

Does she know about it? No…? You’re not sure since she kept playing with you and your feelings. She’ll tease you about how you blush whenever you’re with her, and she’ll cling her arm to yours whenever someone mistakes both of you as a couple. 

“Hey! Snapped out of it! Will you?” She tapped your head with a clothes hanger.

“Aww! Sorry. It’s not like that, your fit’s pretty okay?” You snapped again. You just can’t help but be yourself whenever you’re with her.

“You’ve been staring at me— are you checking me out!?” She covered herself with everything she could; she’s looking at you weirdly. She mistook your daydreaming.

“Yes.”

“Wha– yes!? Pervert!”

“Huh? What the– no! I mean, I’m checking your fit since you asked me to, it’s not what you think!” You just realized what she meant, why she covered herself with a bunch of clothes.

“I know.” You heard her muffled laugh through the layer of garments covering her.

“Sighed.” You’re used to it; it’s like an everyday thing for you.

Isa is always asking your opinion on what she should wear and how she looks in it. It's a treat for your eyes and heart, watching the most beautiful girl you know swirling around, looking at you happily, and asking you how you feel about it.

You’re not even sure if what you feel is possible, since you kept falling in love with her every single day.

This time, you did fall in love again. She looks way too good in that plain white shirt and jeans.

“How is this? Is it good?” She asks you the next day, she’s wearing a nice dress with a variety of flower decorations. She’s glowing, the perfume she is wearing, making love with your sense of smell.

“It’s awful.” You lied.

The reason why? She’s having a blind date. A date with someone whom she hadn't even met, I know that’s how blind dates work. You had this urge to poke that guy’s eyes and make him literally blind.

It’s jealousy, but do you have the right to feel that way?

“Really? It’s that bad?” She frowned. You felt bad since she looked really pretty with it.

“Just kidding, it’s nice. I bet he’ll fall in love with you at first sight.” You take back what you said about being awful, at least you want her to feel happy.

“Like you did?” She jokingly asked you, she’s doing it again, teasing you.

“N-no, I’m not.” You’re not in the mood for it since she’s about to meet someone who you wished was you.

“Phish~ playing hard, huh?” Her cheeks twitched, and she spun again and again; she loves her dress. You don’t know what she meant by it, but you feel so down.

Later that day, she texted you, asking you to meet her. You wait for a minute in the shop she mentioned. The moment you saw her approaching, you already knew that she was mad. She stomped her feet all the way to you and dropped her bag on the table.

“That guy’s fucking rude.” She pulled the chair across you, its foot scraping the wooden flooring of the shop.

“What happened?” You sipped at the coffee you ordered while you were waiting; you ordered one for her, too.

“He kept creepily looking at me the whole time!” She vented out this built-up anger on you.

“WHAT!? WHO’S THAT GUY!! TELL ME HIS NAME!?” You yelled, can’t contain the sudden shared anger with her. You won’t allow it, you’ll make that guy pay.

“It’s fine, I already slapped his head off. I’ll never meet him again.” She sipped at the coffee you bought for her.

“As you should.” You calmed down; there’s too much tension, so sudden.

“I did a good job, right?” Isa asked your opinion again.

“Yes.” She did a good job, though you thought that slapping him wasn’t enough.

“Creeping someone you just met. It’s scary.” She said, 

“Yes.” You nodded, agreeing with what she just said. You looked at her, who’s still in that dress you approved, she’s like an angel, and that guy’s the devil.

“You're already creeping at me, why the hell did I get violated when he did that?” She kept asking you with that same annoyed expression.

“Yes,” you nodded, but something's not right.

You re-analyzed what she just said. Since when did you creep look at her?

“See?” She’s grinning mischievously.

“NO! I DIDN'T! Stop it!” You sighed. She’s at it again.

“You already said yes, come on, admit it.” She’s smiling now, her mood changed really quickly when it comes to teasing you.

“There’s nothing to admit, I don’t do that.” You denied, you stared at her because you liked her, not because you thought something weird. Well, yeah, sometimes. But during the right time, and right place.

“Just say it, I won’t blame you. I’m hot.” She knew what others thought of her, including you.

“Yeah, hot… hotheaded.” You told her, laughing.

“Look.” She called your attention.