Alec

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Gifts have never been my thing. I'm not big on them, especially when it comes to women. In the past, none of the girls I've been with meant anything to me. They were all just one-time thing, and I made sure of that. But with Evara, it's different. There's something about her that makes me want to do things I wouldn't normally do.

I let out a sigh as I read Evara's text, her stubbornness evident even through the screen of my phone. It's frustrating, but not entirely unexpected. I knew she would throw a fit about accepting the gift.

Evara always has questions about everything, and she's not one to simply go along with something without putting up a fight. The only way to make her do something is leaving her with no other option. So, I do exactly that.

"Princess, I'm not going to say this again, wear the damn dress. I'll be there soon." She received my message crystal clear.

I set my phone down on the bedside table and glance around my room, my eyes landing on my closet. Hanging there, in all its glory, is the tuxedo.

I got home earlier than expected from the hospital a few hours ago, my mind was all over the place, buzzing with thoughts of the evening ahead. I glanced around my place and realised my tux hasn't arrived yet, so, I called Noah to check on the tux delivery and he informed me it would arrive in about an hour. Rather than waste time waiting around, I decided to make a detour and swing by the store myself. If the fitting wasn't perfect, at least I'd have options.

The fitting went smoothly, and as I stepped out and was walking towards my car, relieved that everything seemed to be in order, my eyes wandered across the street. Something caught my eye—a mannequin in an Indian designer store, decked out in the most stunning ensemble I'd ever laid eyes on.

The ombre of black and sage green danced in harmony, a perfect symphony for the eyes. In that moment, I couldn't help but notice how the sage green was the exact shade of my eyes, and the deep black mirrored the intensity of hers. The way the colors seamlessly blended together in that ombre hue was like a reflection of how I feel whenever my eyes lock with hers, every fiber of my existence is drawn to her, like a magnetic force pulling me in, overwhelming me with its intensity, unable to resist the irresistible pull of her presence. Her essence seeping into the deepest depths of my soul, like a tidal wave crashing over me, drowning out everything else in its wake. It's as if she's woven herself into the very fabric of my existence, every thought, every breath, consumed by her and enveloping me in her presence.

Intrigued, I couldn't resist taking a closer look. As I approached, the details of the outfit came into focus— the delicate patterns of butterflies and florals cascading down the fabric. I stood there in the middle of the store, admiring the intricate details of the ensemble, a thought crept into my mind—this is screaming made for her.

For a fact, I knew she loved butterflies and flowers. I'd seen her wear that delicate necklace every day, as if it were a part of her.  And then there were the carnations— I remembered how, just last night, she was her usual self, in a hurry, rushing to get home. In her haste, she had dropped them in my car. After she left, I found them lying forgotten on my car's floor.

The colors, the details—it was like it was made for her. Evara. Her eyes, deep and dark, like pools of liquid midnight, flashed in my memory. And I couldn't help but think how that outfit would make those eyes of hers shine like beacons in the night.

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