Quality Bonding Pt. 2

The walk to the subway was easy, familiar. The crisp air bit at your skin, but the warmth of the morning lingered beneath it, making it bearable.

Liam shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing at you. "So what exactly are we shopping for again? Or is this just a 'wander around until something expensive speaks to you' trip?"

You pursed your lips. "A little of both. I need a few casual things. And maybe some nightwear."

Liam raised a brow. "Nightwear? Remind me, did I already tell you that all of these clothes are going to be useless?"

You waved a hand dismissively. "Well, yes. But a girl’s gotta be prepared. What if I just like dressing nice now?"

He made a show of narrowing his eyes at you, then sighed. "Fine. But you owe me for this suffering."

"You love shopping with me. Admit it."

"I love judging your shopping habits. There’s a difference."

"Semantics."

You laughed, pushing through the crowd as you made your way down the subway steps. The familiarity of it all wrapped around you like a comfortable weight—two best friends, just like before.

It was as if your fallout had not restored your friendship, but also...evolved it.

The Eaton Centre was already alive with weekend energy, a buzzing current of shoppers weaving through the polished corridors beneath the skylit ceiling. The scent of fresh pretzels and roasted coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the crisp scent of new clothes and leather handbags.

You stepped inside with an undeniable excitement thrumming beneath your skin—one you didn’t entirely understand, but didn’t fight, either. Today felt... special, somehow. Maybe it was because Liam had actually agreed to come along, despite all his griping. Maybe it was the way he walked beside you, hands in his jacket pockets, looking around with mild disinterest but still here, still showing up for you in a way that warmed something deep inside your chest.

Or maybe you just liked shopping a little too much these days.

“So,” Liam drawled, side-eyeing you with a smirk, “what’s first? Or are we just going to wander aimlessly until you sniff out something expensive?”

You scoffed, elbowing him lightly. “I don’t sniff out expensive things. I just have an eye for quality.”

“Right. Like a bloodhound, but for overpriced silk.”

You gasped, pressing a hand to your chest in mock offense. “Liam! My delicate little heart!”

He snorted, but there was a softness to his expression as he watched you feign devastation. Rolling his eyes, he nodded toward the directory. “Come on, bloodhound. Lead the way.”

The first store was a boutique that specialized in timeless staples—sleek, structured blazers, satin blouses in rich hues, perfectly tailored trousers. It wasn’t flashy, but everything inside screamed effortless elegance.

Immediately, your fingers traced over the smooth fabrics, feeling the weight of a silk blouse between your fingertips before shifting to the sharp cut of a cropped blazer. You could already imagine slipping it on over a dress, the cinched waist highlighting your curves just so.

“Should I ask how much this one is, or will it make me cry?” Liam asked, holding up a tailored navy blazer with an arched brow.

You flipped the tag over and winced.

“That bad?”

“Let’s just say I could buy it… but we wouldn’t be having dinner later.”

Liam hummed, setting it back. “I would like to eat, actually.”

You laughed but moved on, picking out a black high-neck sleeveless bodysuit that hugged the mannequin in a way that promised the same effect on you. It was simple, but it would go with nearly anything, and best of all—no need for a fitting room.

As you carried it to the counter, Liam trailed behind, eyeing a rack of slim-fit button-ups. “You could just buy something casual today, you know. You already have an entire closet of stuff like this.”

You shrugged, offering a teasing smile. “Maybe I just like looking good.”

Liam huffed, but you didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on you for just a second longer than necessary before he muttered, “Yeah. No kidding.”

With your first purchase secured, the two of you wandered into the next store, this one bursting with cozy knitwear—chunky sweaters, ribbed cardigans, soft turtlenecks that begged to be layered over bralettes and delicate camisoles.

You ran your hands over the racks before pulling out a cream off-the-shoulder knit sweater, feeling the plush fabric between your fingers. It was soft—deliciously so. And it wasn’t your usual style, but… you could already picture yourself in it, sleeves slipping past your wrists, the wide neckline exposing a teasing sliver of collarbone.

“Thought you were looking for casual?” Liam teased.

“This is casual.”

He shot you a dry look. “For who? A lifestyle blogger drinking oat milk lattes?”

You smirked. “I might want to drink oat milk lattes.”

Liam groaned. “God, you’ve changed.”

You laughed as you carried the sweater to the counter, adding it to your growing haul. Next came accessories—nothing too extravagant, just a set of dainty gold stacking rings that caught your eye at a jewelry counter. As you slipped one onto your finger, Liam hummed in approval.

“Alright. That one’s not bad.”

“Not bad? Not bad?” You held up your hand dramatically. “It’s perfect.”

Liam’s lips twitched. “It’s a ring.”

You rolled your eyes but paid for it anyway, slipping the delicate band onto your finger as you left the store.

By the time you reached the shoe store, Liam groaned. “More heels?”

You grinned. “What if I find something different?”

“Like flats?”

“Like… something I don’t already have.”

He huffed but followed you in, watching as you browsed through rows of pointed-toe stilettos, block heels, and strappy sandals. Finally, your gaze landed on a pair of black patent leather Mary Jane pumps, sleek with a delicate gold buckle fastening at the ankle. They were feminine, classic, with just the right amount of vintage charm.

Liam eyed them with a frown. “Aren’t those what like… Catholic schoolgirls wear?”

You smirked. “You have a _very specific _reference point there, Liam.”

His ears pinked. “Shut up.”

You snickered but slipped them into your shopping bag anyway, satisfied with your first round of purchases.

As you walked back into the bustling mall, Liam stretched, groaning dramatically. “Alright, how much more do we have to go?”

You gasped. “Liam. We’ve barely started.”

“Barely started? I feel like I’ve aged five years.”

You grinned, hooking your arm through his and dragging him along. “Oh, hush. You’re having fun.”

He scoffed. “You’re having fun.”

You didn’t argue, because… yeah. You were having fun. And if Liam wasn’t complaining too much, maybe—just maybe—he was, too.

By the time you stepped out of the store, the shopping bags in your hands had multiplied—but not by too much. You weren’t going overboard just yet. This was a marathon, not a sprint, and you intended to savor every part of it. Besides, half the fun was getting Liam to enjoy himself, even if it meant teasing, bribing, or outright forcing him to admit he was having a good time.

“Alright,” he said, shaking his head as you led him toward the next set of stores. “You have your sweater, your bodysuit, more rings, and those weirdly formal schoolgirl shoes. What’s next?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You say ‘weirdly formal’ like it’s a bad thing.”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, “you’re really committed to looking like you belong in a Vogue spread at all times.”

You smirked. “Of course. What if I run into Damian? Or worse—Vincent?”

Liam scoffed. “And yet you’re still seen in public with me.”

You rolled your eyes, tugging him toward the next store.

The next stop was a boutique filled with bold statement pieces—unique cuts, rich fabrics, things that didn’t just belong in a wardrobe but demanded attention. The kind of store that could make you feel instantly powerful the second you put something on.

You skimmed through the racks, feeling the textures glide beneath your fingers. A deep blue satin wrap blouse caught your attention first—soft, luxurious, and with just enough sheen to feel effortlessly chic without being over-the-top.

“Oh, this is so mine.” You plucked it from the hanger, holding it against yourself in the mirror. The rich green contrasted beautifully against your skin, and the wrap detail cinched at just the right place. You could already picture it tucked into high-waisted trousers or paired with a sleek skirt.

Liam, predictably, was unimpressed. “That’s just a fancy shirt.”

You scoffed. “It’s satin, Liam.”

“So? I have a cotton shirt. Should I be impressed?”

You smirked. “No. But I do think we should get you out of your flannel comfort zone. Maybe get you into something a little more…” You waved vaguely at the store. “Less ‘lumberjack who owns two pairs of jeans’ and more ‘effortlessly stylish city guy’.”

Liam groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I am not trying anything on.”

“I didn’t say you had to try it on,” you countered sweetly. “I just think we should expand your wardrobe.”

“We?”

You ignored him, grabbing Luxe fitted leather pants from the next rack. Sleek, fitted, and just the right length to pair with both heels and flats. It was the kind of versatile piece you’d meant to get before but never quite did. With it, you added some leggings and trousers.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Liam muttered as he watched you grab yet another item. “What’s the damage so far?”

You did a quick mental tally. “A lifetime of fashion trauma inflicted upon you.”

He sighed. “Sounds about right.”

The next store was a treasure trove of statement jewelry, delicate chains, and bold accents—the kind of place that made you want to drape yourself in gold and pretend you were a high-society heiress.

Liam, predictably, hung back.

“You know,” you said as you tried on a chunky silver bracelet, turning your wrist to admire the way the metal caught the light, “you could stand to accessorize a little.”

“I do accessorize,” he argued.

You turned to him, deadpan. “Wearing the same watch every day doesn’t count.”

He glanced down at his wrist as if realizing you were right, then scowled. “It’s practical.”

You sighed dramatically, picking out a set of gold hoop earrings and adding them to your growing collection. “One day, Liam. One day you’ll learn.”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

After another short break (and a much-needed coffee run), you found yourself in a shoe store filled with rows upon rows of heels, flats, and boots. You’d already bought one pair of shoes, so you weren’t planning on another just yet… but window shopping never hurt anyone.

Except, apparently, Liam.

“I swear, if you buy another pair of heels—”

You smirked, running your fingers along a pair of sleek black leather ankle boots with a low block heel. “But these are different.”

“Are they?”

“Yes! They’re boots.”

Liam sighed. “I’m being held hostage.”

You just grinned, turning back to the display.

You didn’t buy the boots. Not yet, at least. But the thrill of the hunt was just as satisfying.

As you stepped out into the mall again, Liam stretched his arms over his head, groaning like a man who had been **** into physical labor.

“This has been so much shopping.”

You smirked. “And yet you’re still here. Makes you wonder, huh?”

Liam paused, tilting his head as if considering something. “Maybe I’m just waiting for my moment to escape.”

You gasped dramatically. “Betrayal. Right here. In the middle of the Eaton Centre.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was something light in the way he looked at you—something warm and comfortable. And maybe it was just the thrill of the day, the effortless banter, or the way he’d been next to you the entire time without complaint, but…

For just a second, something stirred in your chest. Something subtle, quiet, and completely unacknowledged.

And then Liam nudged you. “Come on, what’s next?”

The moment passed.

You smiled, shaking off the odd feeling.

“Oh, I think you know what’s next.”

Liam groaned. “God help me.”