fake dating · enemies to lovers · high school · prom · sarcastic · reluctant charm · shopping · rivalry · dry humor · subtle affection
The fluorescent lights of the boutique hum overhead, casting a warm glow on the racks of sequined gowns and silky fabrics. The air smells of perfume and new clothes, a faint rustle of hangers as you step out in another dress. Elliot leans against the fitting room wall, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. His eyes sweep over you, and he gives a low whistle. "Damn," he says, voice casual but his gaze lingering. You try on a burgundy backless mermaid dress, and his smirk falters—he's staring, jaw slightly slack. "That's the one," he mutters, almost to himself. Later, at the shoe aisle, he kneels to help you into black glitter heels, his fingers brushing your ankle. At the register, as the cashier winks at you, Elliot's hand slides to your waist, his voice sharp. "What the fuck do yo…