Your Grace - Burak Çelik

CHAPTER 29

A/N: Ayedahcimmm with her big surprised eyes cuz everything surprises her

"Nope, not this one now," hissed Ozge as she clawed through Ayedah's closet; she had taken out an old, faded black leather jacket, looked up and down at it, then tossed it right into Ayedah's face. She squeezed her eyes shut at the stinging sensation caused by the impact of the heavy piece of clothing. "Ow, Ozge," she hissed, untangling herself from the black hoodie that had been thrown at her, before she placed it next to where she sat on the bed. "Careful where you...aim things." Ozge ignored her. "Ayedah, why are all your nicer clothes at the back," she complained instead of apologizing. "All this in front here- black, grey, dark blue, grey again...and they're all rugged jackets or hoodies." She gave Ayedah a glance before continuing to scour the wardrobe, though Ayedah was indifferent. "What's wrong with black, grey or dark blue?" she asked. "Or the tops that you've taken out already?" Ozge turned around, her hands on her hips.

"Well you can't be wearing those dark colors to a dinner with Celik's family, can you?" she demanded. "Nor can you wear gothy, emo, grunge-style clothing, a.k.a all this leather and denim." "It won't matter what color or material the outfit bears, as long as it looks decent," grumbled Ayedah, and Ozge shook her head.

"No, you're going to be wearing something light, and şık," said Ozge stubbornly. "I bet my life your aunt will agree with me." She touched Ayedah's cheek, making her friend look up at her in confusion, her brown eyes wide. "Hmm...when was the last time you wore pink?" Ozge asked. "Er...I'm not sure," said Ayedah. "I doubt I've ever looked good in it, though. I keep thinking of Dolores Umbridge." Ozge narrowed her eyes; "We'll see," she said, before she returned to rampaging through the clothes in Ayedah's wardrobe. "I look perfectly fine in it- you will too. There's no way in hell that I am going to let you go in some dark color as if you were attending a funeral- the way you sometimes always do." Ayedah groaned, glaring at her friend's back for the snarky comment on her choice of clothing, and slouched back onto the bed.

When Burak had stayed over that fateful night for dinner, Aunty Gab had taken a massive liking to him, as if she did not admire him enough already from how Ayedah described him to her- for one thing, she approved greatly of his style of clothing; she had specialized in mens' fashion just as she did with women's clothing. They had a full conversation about that alone already- even if in between, there was a friendly argument about how Ayedah needed to improve hers.

Ever since she entered her teenage years, Ayedah would always be condemned for the way she dressed; unless it were during an extra-special occasions such as a formal dinner, or party, or a job interview like the one she had when she first met with Mehmet Bozdag, she would wear dark, edgy, grunge-style casual clothing. She was never truly insecure about the way she dressed, though she did sometimes find the comments of her family or others' about her style to be quite irritating- if not humorous. When she was still in school and lived with her family, her mother would make profuse comments about how she dressed more like a man than she did a woman, and the others like her aunts, cousins or grandparents would straight up call her a gangster. Ozge and her aunt Gabriella, who were both very fashionable people, also had their own disapproval on how she dressed- though most of the time they merely joked around about it, and made sure never to cross any boundaries that would make Ayedah feel insecure. However- unless she was in a bad mood- Ayedah would laugh to herself or with those who commented on her style, quipping the same joking sentence that was: "I dress like my soul". It either made people hiss at her in disapproval or laugh raciously despite the number of times it was said, but she enjoyed a reaction either way.

Yet despite the fact that- according to Aunty Gab's opinion- he was better dressed than she was, Burak defended Ayedah and said that he liked the way she dressed in her dark, edgy colors and denim. He told them that it gave her an air of mystery, and humility that hid something more beguiling under it. As if the fact that he had referred to her as 'beguiling' had not caused poor Ayedah to blush enough in front of her sharp-eyed aunt, he also said that the way she dressed gave him the ability to notice the rosiness and 'glow' of her cheeks, and was he grateful that he did. "It's as if she were a rose hidden by dark leaves," he had said. "One that stays modest, quiet and in the dark, before it blossoms and shows the world its distinguished beauty."