The boutique is spacious, and Satoru sits in the back where the dressing rooms are, on one of the plush, cream sofas, bags at his feet which he’s been carrying around all day for you. Your boyfriend doesn’t really fit in with the pale pink walls and cream furniture and racks of lacy and whatever fabric clothing as he sits in a blue button up and slacks, scrolling on his phone.

“How about this one?” 
Your voice drags Satoru’s attention away from his phone where he’d been texting Nanami about getting drinks later and when his bright blue eyes flit up, he has to swallow back softly.

The dress you’re wearing does justice to your curves, sits perfectly on you, the pale pink complimenting your bright smile and rosy cheeks. It’s long and slides over your curves like water trickling from the mouth of a cave, two thin straps at either of your shoulders, the straight edged neckline sitting perfectly on your chest. It shows off the curve of your hips and how your waist tapers in, and he has to swallow hard, again.

This boutique has several mirrors all around the place — it’s Satoru’s favourite trait of the place and it’s coming in handy because he can see you in every angle like this.

“Do a lil twirl for me,” Satoru murmurs as his fingers make a gesture, and he wets his lips when you do, twirling around to give him a view of the backless dress, sitting just under where your spine hits and yeah fuck you look good.

Satoru’s always had more money than he knew what to do with — it’s a problem to have so much of it lying around so he has no issue whatsoever spending it on you, letting you dress in the most expensive clothes there are, pretty colours and fabric for him to gaze at.

“You look….” Satoru murmurs as he stands, abandoning his phone and bags as his oxfords press to the laminated floor. “Phenomenal. Amazing. Gorgeous,” he mutters as his fingers slide in yours and he grins, white teeth on display as he twirls you around, pulling you into his chest. “Get it in every goddamn colour available.”