you were shaking a little from nerves. brittney, you and paige’s stylist, had just finished getting you ready for the wnba draft. your girlfriend was predicted to be the number one pick. everything was going your way. you had a fire outfit, your hair looked good, you and paige just had a little makeout before you got styled.

so why were you losing your shit?

you and paige planned to ‘soft launch’ tonight. just make it a little bit more obvious you were together. maybe not hand on ass together, but you sitting at the table with her and her family when she gets drafted type of together. so you had to be sure you looked good.

she probably sensed your nerves. she came up beside you, not really able to hug you because her suit was all sparkly. she looked good, that was all you could think. her hand came up to rub your back as she looked at the two of you in the mirror.

“god damn, mama, you look good. why you more worried than me?” she asked through a gentle laugh.