- Messages
- 37
- OOC First Name
- Jess S
- Blood Status
- Mixed Blood
- Relationship Status
- Single (Not Looking)
- Sexual Orientation
- Demisexual
- Age
- 25
Dot was nervous. She'd put so much thought into this look- she'd used some of her savings to buy an A-line, off-the-shoulder tea length dress in a blush pink, matched with matching round toe pumps with kitten heels and white bowknot ankle straps. She'd even put on white leggins with a lace cuff that came up just under her knees. She wasn't sure if that was too girlish, but she thought it was cute. She'd curled her hair but left it down, thinking it was a cute aesthetic, and decided to make it fancier by pulling back a bit of hair by her ears and tying it back with a lacy white bow. She left some curls to frame her face, and had even taken the time to do her makeup. Just a light pink lip gloss that sparkled, with blush pink eyeshadow and white eyeliner. She took a deep breath, knowing there wasn't anything else she could do to make herself look nice.
She didn't want to clean, worried it would make her dress dirty. So instead she'd taken to pacing in front of the door, twisting her hands over the delicate beading of the strap on her small pink purse, a delicate fabric she often ran her hands over to soothe herself when she was out and about and nervous, holding her phone, her lip gloss, a small bottle of rose perfume and a small bottle of hand sanitizer, with a white handkerchief.
She groaned, and stopped, taking a few deep breaths. Obsessing over what she wore and what she had on her wasn't going to help her with these nerves. Why had she even agreed to go on a date? Especially one most likely expensive- she'd allowed Daintree to get tickets to a ballet and a reservation to a restaurant she'd always wanted to try but had been too nervous to even walk into. But he'd been so sweet... just walking with her around the park nearby, talking with her, listening to her go on about her silly little stories. She reached up to run a hand over her hair, hoping he wouldn't be too much later to pick her up.
She didn't want to clean, worried it would make her dress dirty. So instead she'd taken to pacing in front of the door, twisting her hands over the delicate beading of the strap on her small pink purse, a delicate fabric she often ran her hands over to soothe herself when she was out and about and nervous, holding her phone, her lip gloss, a small bottle of rose perfume and a small bottle of hand sanitizer, with a white handkerchief.
She groaned, and stopped, taking a few deep breaths. Obsessing over what she wore and what she had on her wasn't going to help her with these nerves. Why had she even agreed to go on a date? Especially one most likely expensive- she'd allowed Daintree to get tickets to a ballet and a reservation to a restaurant she'd always wanted to try but had been too nervous to even walk into. But he'd been so sweet... just walking with her around the park nearby, talking with her, listening to her go on about her silly little stories. She reached up to run a hand over her hair, hoping he wouldn't be too much later to pick her up.