Text Clara that you're ready and wait for her in the living room. First stop is for a decent push up bra and cute sundress, with the request cleavage revealing neck line but of a modest length and coverage. Before you leave give David a light peck and p

You quickly text Clara: "Ready whenever you are! First stop needs to be for a decent push-up bra and a cute sundress - something with a revealing neckline but modest length. These borrowed clothes are falling off me!"

Her response comes almost immediately: "Perfect timing! Just parking! And don't worry babe, I know EXACTLY what you need "

You tuck your phone away and head to the living room, your DIY V-neck shirt drawing David's attention immediately as you enter. He's sprawled on the sofa, scrolling through his phone, but his eyes lock onto your improvised cleavage display with undisguised appreciation.

"That's... creative," he says, gesturing toward your rubber-banded Radiohead shirt. "Much better than the baggy stuff from yesterday."

"Just a temporary solution," you reply, smoothing the front self-consciously. Under Comfort Mode's influence, his obvious appreciation sends a pleasant flutter through your stomach rather than disgust. "Clara's taking me shopping for proper clothes."

"Including proper underwear?" David asks with a smirk, clearly referencing the selfie you sent earlier.

Your cheeks flush hot. "Maybe. Probably. I mean, I need everything, don't I?"

The space between you crackles with tension, memories of your kitchen kisses hanging in the air. You move toward him with newfound confidence, leaning down as he tilts his face up expectantly.

"I'll send you photos," you murmur, pressing your lips softly against his. "For your opinion."

David's hand comes up to cup your cheek, trying to deepen the kiss, but you pull back with a teasing smile. "Clara will be here any minute."

"Cruel," he whispers, but his eyes are bright with interest. "But I'll hold you to that photo promise."

A car horn sounds from outside – three quick beeps that could only be Clara announcing her arrival.

"That's my ride," you say, straightening up. "Wish me luck finding something that satisfies both Clara's fashion sense and my comfort level."

"Good luck," David replies, his eyes still fixed on your makeshift cleavage. "Though I have to say, your DIY skills are impressive."

You grab your phone and head toward the door, feeling his gaze on your back as you walk away. The sensation is unfamiliar but not unpleasant – being looked at with desire rather than friendly camaraderie. Comfort Mode Level 2 has you floating in a strange space where these feminine experiences feel increasingly natural.

As you open the front door, Clara's sleek white Audi is idling at the curb, sunroof open to reveal her waving enthusiastically. Her oversized designer sunglasses catch the midday sun as she beckons you toward fashion adventures unknown.

"Show time," you murmur to yourself, stepping out to meet your shopping companion with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

12:30 | Sunday 3 August 2025 | Clara's car, en route to Westfield