Hey Sexy Lady

[13 March 2014]

Like I’ve probably said before, I’m not that used to guy friends complimenting me on how good I look. So when Ove did it some time ago, it threw me a bit off balance… afterwards, I felt like I was wearing an unusually revealing outfit and since I’m one of the guys type, seeing me like that must have surprised him.

But then this morning I’m about to go and work on a project for one of my courses with some classmates, and I happen upon Ove in the common room as I go in for a quick breakfast. I greet him rather cheerfully, and remarks upon the fact that I’m rather cheerful for the early hour. It’s true, normally I’m never in the mood to be friendly in the mornings, unless I happen to catch a hit of Summer’s bong before I go to bed— that thing always gives me the best, refreshing sleep! And I always wake up early, rested and motivated.

This morning I’m wearing this flowy, below-the-knee green dress with a demure sweetheart neckline and long sleeves. The highlight of my look was a new pink silk scarf my mom sent me in a care package and that I had been dying to wear.

“I finally get to wear this scarf!” I tell him, showing it off. I have it draped loosely around my neck. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s nice.” He agrees, and then adds, “You almost look like a fantasy princess. The color fits well with your dress.”

Warmth spreads in my belly, up my chest. “Is that so?” I tease, leaning in exaggerated away against the kitchen island, popping my butt to the side.

“Yeah, I like the way it shows your upper body and drops at the hips. It makes a nice curve,” he went on, gazing at me. It’s hard to say if he’s joking when he talks with no obvious sarcasm in his voice. I feels like this is sarcasm, but I’ve never known him to use that tone while joking; mostly he is being super serious… but even when you’re trying to flatter someone, you’d do it with a twinkle in your eye, right? Yeah, this thing he does confuses me.

 “Awww, thanks! Is that what you’ve thought every time I’ve worn this dress,” I continue to joke, because yes, this is an old dress that Nicole make for me when we were still in high school. I wear it quite often because it’s good in coldish weather.

“Maybe it’s the scarf,” he retorts looking back down to the newspaper he had beside his bowl of oatmeal. And I snigger I bit, grabbing my drinking yoghurt from the fridge and get going. I don’t know why, but I end up feeling awkward at this point. I mean I liked it that he complimented me, but he’s a friend an he’s talking about my curves… maybe I’m just being immature.

Anyhow, when I left, I was in an awesome mood, I felt confident and aware that of my own attractiveness.

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