Ford couldn't help but tense when she pulled the white suit out of the closet. He had expected that she would dismiss it out of hand, if she commented on it at all, and he'd been prepared to explain why such an oddity was in his wardrobe in the first place. People already knew he and Ty were friends, and that Ty had invited him to the event last summer, so it was easily explicable. But grooms didn't wear white to weddings, so he'd expected the conversation to end there. He hadn't expected her to actually consider it.
"Change the color," he echoed. "Like — permanently?"
He didn't have any good excuses why they couldn't use the white suit; he hadn't thought ahead to this possibility and prepared any. He could see that it was the most obvious choice, from an outside perspective. It did fit him well, and it was both the newest and the highest quality suit he owned. He'd only worn it once, and because of the stark color it was unlikely he'd ever wear it again without it being altered. There was no good reason not to use it. It wouldn't do to tell her that he liked to have it in his closet because every time he saw it it gave him a giddy little thrill, remembering the extravagance — not just of the suit but of being out with Tycho somewhere where no one cared if they hung at each other's elbows all night, where Ford had no one to chaperone and no one to check in with. How he'd taken such care all evening to keep the white suit pristine, then ended up discarding it on the floor of Ty's bedroom without a second thought about wrinkles or dirt...
From an outside perspective it was the obvious choice, but Ford felt a little nauseous. He didn't know if he had the stomach to marry Miss Farley in Tycho's suit.
"Um, yeah," he said, pulling himself back to the moment with visible effort. He cleared his throat. "They fit."
"Change the color," he echoed. "Like — permanently?"
He didn't have any good excuses why they couldn't use the white suit; he hadn't thought ahead to this possibility and prepared any. He could see that it was the most obvious choice, from an outside perspective. It did fit him well, and it was both the newest and the highest quality suit he owned. He'd only worn it once, and because of the stark color it was unlikely he'd ever wear it again without it being altered. There was no good reason not to use it. It wouldn't do to tell her that he liked to have it in his closet because every time he saw it it gave him a giddy little thrill, remembering the extravagance — not just of the suit but of being out with Tycho somewhere where no one cared if they hung at each other's elbows all night, where Ford had no one to chaperone and no one to check in with. How he'd taken such care all evening to keep the white suit pristine, then ended up discarding it on the floor of Ty's bedroom without a second thought about wrinkles or dirt...
From an outside perspective it was the obvious choice, but Ford felt a little nauseous. He didn't know if he had the stomach to marry Miss Farley in Tycho's suit.
"Um, yeah," he said, pulling himself back to the moment with visible effort. He cleared his throat. "They fit."
Set by Lady!