Athilda's pov
I bit my lip while staring at the clothes spread out on my bed. What should I wear? What kind of date is this anyway? I need to know so I can pick the right outfit.
Knock! Knock!
"What?!" I shouted, still holding my chin and deep in thought.
"Seriously, Athilda? You're still not ready?!" he said, clearly annoyed.
"Duh! Can you not tell? I do not even know what kind of date we are going on! How am I supposed to dress properly?" I snapped, frowning in frustration.
"Just wear a dress, not too short!" he replied again. Ugh. Can he speak without throwing in a curse?
"No way! Wait a bit, I'm almost done! A dress that's not too short? What do you want me to wear, something down to my ankles?"
"Fine! I need to stop by my house first, so hurry up."
"Yeah, yeah. Just go!"
"Hmm…" he muttered as I heard his footsteps leaving. I sighed and scratched my cheek.
