Her heart pounded in her chest as she walked up to the venue, her eyes practically sparkling. The blue haired womanβs throat was tight, excitement preventing her from being able to verbally express the excitement she felt bubbling beneath her skin. The click of her heels against the pavement almost soothed her nerves, the pale blue dress she wore pooling around her feet as she walked. The princess line adding to the fairytale, out of a movie aesthetic she had aimed for.
Really, when Meryl had asked you out, she didnβt think youβd agree to something as silly as a fairytale ball. The news reporter bit her lip as she looked around for you, holding her clutch purse in her hand. White pearls hung around her neck, with her usual gold earrings replaced with hanging diamonds. Her gloved palms felt clammy as she decided to wait by the entrance. She was a few minutes early, so she had no qualms with waiting a bit for you. Meryl had always been like that, particular about the time.
Early is on time, on time is late.
Her parents had instilled that into her head. Of course, she knew you werenβt late, she told you to come at six thirty, or eighteen thirty. Twenty-four hour time had been something sheβd been learning recently, thanks to Vash and his insistence on using it like he was some hardcore marine or something. Brushing her bangs from her eyes, nervously she looked around. Meryl wanted to impress you, even if she was bossy occasionally. (It was more than occasionally).
Her painted nails tapped against the metal of her purse, the temptation to shake her excitement out like a wet dog was enough to make her feel embarrassed. It was only your first date. She just didnβt want to step all over your feet when the two of you dance. If you dance. Was she overthinking just the smallest amount? Definitely, but you made her all mushy like Vash after getting drunk near pretty women. Glancing to the time on her phone, she cleared her throat. Six twenty-five. Any minute now, Meryl, deep breaths.