Quality Bonding

Sunlight trickled through the blinds, casting lazy golden lines across the ceiling of your dorm. The air smelled like Liam’s cheap drugstore cologne, the remnants of coffee, and the faintest trace of your own perfume—something floral, something undeniably feminine. Your body stretched beneath the covers, the silky fabric of your oversized t-shirt against your skin, the hem of your thong riding up your hips as you shifted. You had refused to buy actual women’s pajamas, but you had enough women’s clothes at this point that the distinction hardly mattered anymore.

Across the room, Liam was sprawled in his own bed, one arm thrown over his face, his messy brown hair sticking up at odd angles from sleep. He groaned.

“Luna, I swear to God—if I hear one more thing about the Kardashians, I’m gonna lose it.”

You snorted, lying on your side, propped up on one elbow. “But you love the Kardashians.”

“I do not love the Kardashians,” Liam shot back, voice still thick with sleep. “I tolerate them. There’s a difference.”

“Lies,” you said, dragging a lazy finger through your hair. “I know you keep up.”

Liam groaned again. “That’s only because you keep up, and I have **** but to absorb all this secondhand Kardashian knowledge against my will.” He cracked an eye open. “Didn’t something dramatic happen with Kylie and, like… who was it? That one guy?”

You gasped. “Timothée Chalamet?”

Liam groaned again, rolling onto his side. “Here we go.”

“No, no, listen—” you said, grinning. “So they show up at the Golden Globes, being all cute or whatever, and suddenly people freak out because Kylie is being ‘too affectionate’—” you made dramatic air quotes, “—and then, like, two days later, the rumors start that they broke up, and now _no one _knows what the truth is, and it’s hilarious.”

Liam just stared at you, expression blank. Then: “You need a hobby.”

“This is my hobby. And it has been, for years.”

Liam made an exasperated noise, shoving a pillow over his face. “Why do you even care?”

You shrugged. “I like rich people drama...and they're hot.”

“They could be cloning dinosaurs with their money, and instead they’re out here making people cry on Instagram.”

You grinned. “Would you clone a dinosaur if you had Kardashian money?”

“Obviously.”

You rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling. “What dinosaur would you start with?”

“Velociraptor. No contest.”

You turned your head, eyeing him suspiciously. “That’s so basic.”

Liam scoffed. “Okay, what would you pick?”

You hummed, tapping a finger against your lips. “Mmm… a plesiosaur.”

Liam frowned. “That’s, like… a sea dinosaur, right?”

“Yep.”

“…And what are you gonna do with a whole-ass ocean monster?”

You shrugged. “Keep it in my luxury yacht tank.”

Liam barked out a laugh. “You don’t even like the ocean.”

“Exactly,” you said smugly. “But I’d own it.”

Liam shook his head, still grinning. “You’re a menace.”

You beamed at him.

A comfortable silence settled between you. The kind that only ever existed between best friends—the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words. Just the morning light, the warmth of the blankets, and the lingering remnants of half-asleep conversations.

And then—

“I wanna go shopping,” you announced.

Liam groaned again, dramatically this time. “Oh my God. WHAT?”

You smirked. “Come on, I haven’t gotten anything new in weeks.”

He lifted his head slightly to squint at you. “And who’s paying for this?”

You grinned, stretching luxuriously under your sheets. “The same people who paid for the last shopping spree.”

Liam snorted. “You mean the money you got from blowing rich CEOs?”

“Exactly,” you said breezily. “It’s what I deserve for hard work.”

He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. “It was definitely hard, and it was definitely work. And what do you even need? You’ve got, like, a whole new closet.”

You hesitated. “…Some more casual stuff. Maybe some… nightwear.”

Liam raised a brow. “What, like lingerie?”

You made a face. “No, idiot. Just, like… comfy stuff. Maybe some silk shorts. A camisole. A nice robe. Something cute to lounge in.”

Liam eyed you. “You do realize that, assuming you succeed in this whole trial thing, all your girl clothes are gonna be useless in a month, right?”

You paused. “Well—”

Liam smirked. “You’re gonna turn back into a guy, and then what? Just keep a full wardrobe of women’s clothes around for fun?”

You pursed your lips. “There's the chance I might not. I only might turn back into a guy.”

His smirk faltered slightly. “Might?”

You shrugged, rolling onto your side again. “I dunno. It’s just… easier to go with the flow at this point.”

Liam studied you for a long moment before exhaling. “Fine. Fine. I’ll go with you.”

You grinned. “I love you.”

“I hate you,” he grumbled.

“No, you don’t.”

Liam threw a pillow at your face.

You cackled.

Liam groaned again, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I cannot believe I’m spending my one day off shopping with you.”

You waved a dismissive hand. “It’ll be fun. Quality bonding.”

Liam muttered something under his breath before sitting up with a long, exaggerated sigh. “Are we at least eating after? Like some Chic-Fil-A or something?”

Your grin widened. “Yes! Actually—” You sat up, clasping your hands together. “I want to have a proper dinner.”

Liam eyed you warily. “Define proper.”

You clasped your hands under your chin. “A restaurant. With actual food.”

He made a face. “Can’t we just get burgers?”

“No, no, no,” you said, shaking your head. “Like, real food. No fast food. No takeout. Like… sit down, look-at-the-menu, cloth-napkin kind of dinner.”

Liam’s expression was already turning resistant.

You pouted. “Pleeeeease?”

Liam groaned, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “You sound way too cute for someone who's supposed to be my friend.”

You clasped your hands together, widening your eyes. “Come on, you never let me have nice things.”

“That’s bullshit,” Liam deadpanned. “I literally just agreed to go shopping with you.”

“Exactly!” You leaned closer. “Which means you’re already committed to the bit.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate you.”

“I love you.”

Liam exhaled, glaring at you. “…Fine.”

Liam shoved his pillow over his face again. “I regret everything.”

You kicked your blankets off, already reaching for your phone to check store hours.

A day of shopping. A night of actual dinner.

Today was gonna be great.

The sound of water rushing through the pipes hummed softly in the background as you scrubbed your toothbrush against your teeth, staring at your reflection in the mirror above the sink. Your long hair was a wild mess from sleep, tumbling over your shoulders in loose waves. The oversized T-shirt you’d thrown on last night had ridden up slightly, revealing the smooth skin of your thigh. The hem barely covered the lacy band of the panties beneath—nothing extravagant, just a soft lilac thong that you hadn’t really thought about when you’d slipped it on.

Liam was in his own bed behind you, mumbling sleepily about something dumb—some TikTok controversy, probably.

"You _know _she’s lying," he was saying as he stretched out, voice thick with sleep. "I mean, come on. A private jet takes how long to get to Italy? And then she claims she just happened to bump into him there? Yeah, okay."

You rolled your eyes, grinning around your toothbrush. "So you’re really invested in the Kardashians' travel logistics now?" you mumbled through the foam.

"I’m invested in drama, Luna. And this? This is premium."

"Mm." You spit into the sink, rinsing your mouth out. "I still think it’s hilarious how you pretend to hate them but somehow know everything about their lives."

"I hate-follow. It’s different."

"Sure." You shot him a knowing smirk in the mirror before flicking off the faucet.

The dorm felt comfortably warm this morning, the sun spilling through the window, casting lazy golden light over the floor. You stretched your arms overhead, enjoying the satisfying pull of your muscles, then grabbed a towel and your clothes before slipping into the bathroom. The shower was hot, steam curling against the air as you stepped beneath the spray. You tilted your head back, letting the water rush over your skin, sluicing away the remnants of sleep.

There was a sort of excitement bubbling under your skin, a lightness in your chest that you didn’t entirely understand. Maybe it was just the prospect of a lazy day with Liam, like before. Like when things were simple. No curses, no trials, no men with dangerous smiles and even more dangerous hands. Just you and your best friend.

Yet, even as you let yourself sink into that comforting thought, there was a little voice in the back of your mind that whispered something else. Something about the way you were looking forward to this, about how you wanted to look nice today.

Maybe it was just habit now. Maybe it was just fun.

You wrapped the towel around yourself as you stepped out of the shower, skin flushed and warm from the heat. Your reflection in the fogged-up mirror was familiar yet foreign—softened in places, sharpened in others. With a breath, you let the towel fall and reached for the delicate set of undergarments you’d picked out: a matching black lace bra and panties set, the fabric delicate against your skin. The bra cupped you perfectly, pushing you up more than your tpyicla bra, the intricate lace trailing against your ribs, while the panties sat snug against your hips.

You pulled on a sheer pair of nude thigh-high stockings next, smoothing them up your legs, the band snapping lightly into place. Then came the outfit—the real choice, and the part that puzzled you.

For a casual shopping day, you would have normally opted for jeans and a sweater, something effortless. Instead, you found yourself reaching for something… more.

You pulled on the soft lavender A-line dress you had worn before, letting it settle against your body. It skimmed your curves softly, a little loose in the right places, a little snug in others. For shoes, you slipped into nude pointed-toe pumps—higher than necessary, but they elongated your legs beautifully, so you didn’t think too hard about it. Gold hoop earrings, a delicate chain necklace, and a structured taupe handbag completed the look.

It was too much. You knew it was too much. And yet, you didn’t change.

You perched yourself in front of the mirror, reaching for your makeup bag. Maybe this could be simple. Light concealer, soft brows, a little mascara. But then, your fingers lingered on a rich, berry-toned lipstick, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you were sweeping it onto your lips.

Your eyeshadow was soft but shimmery, warm-toned browns blended seamlessly with a hint of gold at the inner corners. A subtle winged liner added a touch of drama, and with a final sweep of highlighter, you sat back, surveying the finished product.

The effect was polished, poised. Feminine in a way that was purposeful, rather than incidental.

You let out a slow breath, pressing your lips together, then stood.

Stepping back into the main dorm room, you found Liam sitting on the edge of his bed, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when he heard you, and for a moment, he just… blinked.

Then, with a slow nod, he grinned. "Damn, alright. You’re really bringing out the main character energy today."

You snorted, grabbing your bag. "Yeah, yeah. You ready?"

"Ready to watch you spend unnecessary amounts of money? Always."

"Supportive, as ever."

"What can I say? I live to uplift."

And with that, your day out began.