IV.

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I stare at all of the dresses that I've laid out on my bed. I've been looking at them for a half hour, trying desperately to figure out which one would be a good choice. Francis has been absolutely no help to me. He just keeps saying that Harry would like me in anything that I'd wear. When I had been preparing for the party, I hadn't really thought about dressing to impress.

Now that I think about it, there's a part of me deep down that wants to get Harry's attention somehow. I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't attracted to him. Now that we're actually friends and we're spending time together, I'm becoming more and more enticed by him. There's something about him that draws me in.

"Should I straighten my hair or let the curls run wild?" I ask as I turn to look at Francis. He's currently lazing around on my bed with his favourite Winnie the Pooh stuffed animal of mine resting on his lap.

"You don't have enough time to straighten your hair," he says. "Besides, you look infinitely better with your natural hair.

"You're right," I say, nodding as I run my fingers through my hair. "You know, I've decided not to wear a dress," I add as I push the clothes off the bed and go to my closet.

"Fucking hell, Margaret pick an outfit already," Francis groans. "You know what? I think you should wear those silver see through leggings. That'll really impress Harry."

"But the only blouse that really goes with them is see through and I can't wear a bra with it," I groan as I go take out the leggings as well as the offending blouse.

"I see no problem with that," he replies. "And we both know Harry wouldn't mind."

"But I don't want it to seem like I'm trying too hard," I say with a frown. "Besides, this isn't—"

"For the millionth time, Meg, Harry is one hundred percent into you. You could wear a trash bag and he'd still think you look beautiful. Hell, even I think you'd look beautiful in that. If you're not comfortable wearing what I suggested, then that's okay. We've still got a half hour before he shows up," he says calmly as he gets off my bed.

"No, I'll go with the leggings and blouse," I say hastily. "Hopefully I won't look 'desperate'," I add, motioning for him to turn around as I take my shirt off.

"You won't, Meg," Francis says patiently as his back faces me. "You're acting like you've never been on a date before."

"This isn't a date," I say as I narrow my eyes at the back of his head. I carefully pull on the leggings and make sure that the fabric isn't caught on any edges from my fake leg. "You can turn around now," I add.

"Shit, you look great," he says, eyeing me up and down.

(A/N: I get it, y'all don't like this outfit. You don't have to. I like it, so I'm keeping it)

 I like it, so I'm keeping it)

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