Their Thief

Thirty-nine

A/N: There's a trigger warning in the description of the book and I'm not going to specify which one applies to this chapter cause spoilers.

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Damaris Rana

Lola fussed with my curls while Max stared me down.

"Please," he begged. "For me?"

"No."

"Come on! It'll look so hot on you!" he whined.

"No, max."

"Help me out here, Lola."

"Uh, I don't think I have enough information about what you're getting all dressed up for me to decide that for her," she said, scrunching some product into my wet hair to keep the frizz under control.

Max grimaced. "Dont worry, Lola-bear, we'll tell you all about it if we live to tell the tale."

Worry swirled in my stomach. We couldn't mess anything up tonight, Simon's life was on the line.

"Come on, sweet cheeks. I know something was going on between you and-" he glanced at Lola, "-you know who before you got here," he said wiggling his brows. I flushed at his words. "If not for me then do it for him. Let loose and enjoy your final night together."

Lola finished with my hair. "I'll give you guys a moment to talk," she said awkwardly, ducking her head as she left Luca's bathroom where we had set up camp to get ready.

I watched her walk out, feeling guilty for excluding her. "No, Max," I sighed out in defeat. My voice became a whisper. "I have too many scars to wear something so revealing," I said, looking at the red spaghetti strap dress he was holding.

"Oh," he said, eyes widening. He quickly put the dress behind his back. "Shit, I'm such an insensitive friend."

I shook my head. "No, I'm just... different than your average friend." I looked down with a self-pitying smile.

"Don't worry, sweet cheeks," he said wrapping his arm around me. "Hang with me long enough and we'll have you proudly wearing whatever you want in no time. I have no problem with cutting a bitch."

I chuckled. "I don't doubt that."

He rolled his eyes and walked out of the bathroom with the dress.

I took the time to look over the makeup Lola had applied. My eyes were lined with black liner and surrounded by a beautiful black smoky eye with hints of red. She had waxed my upper lip and plucked my brows and any unwanted hairs she could find. My skin was covered in a perfectly matched foundation, making my light brown skin look smooth and flawless. Precise contouring sharpened my rounded features to appear chiselled. My lips were painted with a dark, red, liquid lipstick to bring the look together. I don't think I've ever looked so good before.

Max walked back in with a pair of black jeans, and a matching lacey long sleeve top. "Here," he said, shoving them towards me before walking back out.

I changed into the clothing. The jeans were tight and clung to my figure that had recently started to fill out again. I wore a black camisole underneath the sheer black lace shirt. The design of the lace managed to hide the scars that lay beneath it as long as no one looked too close.