Evaline:
The streets were decked with twinkling lights. Store windows were dressed in garlands and festive charm. Holiday spirit was in the air, and I felt like a wide-eyed tourist - excited, overwhelmed, and oddly content.
Our first stop was a boutique nestled between a bakery and a home decor store. Its window was showcasing mannequins draped in cozy winter outfits: oversized sweaters, long woolen coats, ankle boots, and scarves in every texture imaginable. It was looking exactly like the kind of place I had been hoping to find.
The moment we stepped inside, I had no time to speak.
Both Oscar and Draven switched into their "mate mode."
"Winter clothes. All styles. Neutral colors and pastels. Show us what you have got," Oscar instructed the boutique attendant in a polite yet firm tone.
"And nothing too tight," Draven added quickly, glancing at me from the side. "She’s going to need comfortable fits. Nothing restrictive. Think breathable, soft, and warm."
The boutique attendant blinked but nodded. She was looking a little star-struck, probably wondering how two ridiculously attractive men were fussing over me like I was royalty.
And I... well, I let them. Because for once, it felt nice.
They kept glancing at me as they spoke with the staff, asking for my input on colors, fabrics, even sleeve lengths. It was adorable, really - how they made sure to include me without overwhelming me. I barely had to lift a finger, and somehow, they still made it feel like I was part of every choice.
Racks of clothes were rolled toward us. Blazers, knit sweaters, oversized sweatshirts, flowing dresses, long coats, leggings, and loose-fitting trousers - all in winter-appropriate fabrics.
And what surprised me the most?
Every single item they picked was thoughtful.
They weren’t just pretty or trendy. Not just ’this would look hot on her’ type of picks. They were warm. Comfortable. Practical. The kind of clothes I could wear to the Council HQ or in my daily life without fidgeting. Longline sweaters with soft collars that didn’t choke me. Dresses that were both elegant and forgiving. Trousers with elastic bands I hadn’t even considered I would need in a few months.
I found myself smiling.
They didn’t just see me as their mate. But they saw me as someone who needed care. Someone who would change and grow, and who deserved clothes that changed and grew with her.
I tried on the clothes in a surprisingly spacious changing room while the boutique assistants fluttered about like helpful fairies. I would come out each time to find the two of them sitting like kings - Draven cross-legged and Oscar leaning back, both looking up with full attention like nothing else mattered.
Draven always offered an opinion first, often with some teasing. "That coat makes you look like a mysterious CEO. I approve."
Oscar was gentler, a hand to his chin, thoughtful. "You look beautiful... but maybe try the blue one next?"
They kept the trying-on process easy and light. If I even looked mildly tired, they would tell me to sit and offer me water.
Once the clothes were decided, they whisked us over to the shoe section. I chose a pair of warm ankle boots, lined flats, sneakers, and a pair of really soft and fluffy house slippers.
Then came scarves, gloves, fuzzy socks, and even a few beanies. Draven picked a deep plum one, held it up, then just plopped it on my head with a proud smile.
"There," he said. "Perfect."
I let out a sigh and shook my head, which only earned me a soft chuckle and a wink.
By the time we were done, the boutique looked like it had been raided by a winter queen and her two bodyguards. The counters were filled with bags, all bundled and tagged.
I took out my phone, already calculating the total in my head. It wasn’t astronomical, thankfully. This wasn’t one of those high-end luxury stores that charged a fortune for a scarf. The quality was amazing, but it was still within a budget I could afford.
Or... it would have been.
Because before I could even get to the payment screen, Oscar handed his card to the attendant.
"Wait-Oscar, no," I said, reaching for his wrist. "I got this. Really."
He just looked at me, calm and unbothered. "No, you don’t."
"Seriously, this is too much-"
"I have waited years to find my mate," he said, his voice soft but unyielding. "Years, Eva. Years of saving money with no one to spend it on. Now I do. You are not taking that away from me."
"But these aren’t even expensive-"
"Exactly. If I ever buy you a luxury gown worth more than my car, then you can argue." He paused, then added with a grin, "Also, if you buy me clothes one day, I’ll wear them and not say a word."
I blinked.
He meant it. Every word. And that my protest died in my throat. Instead, I smiled. "Okay. Fine. But I’m paying for dinner. Non-negotiable."
"Deal."
As we moved to leave, our arms filled with shopping bags, I realized Draven had disappeared.
Just as I was about to turn back to look for him, the door opened, and he walked out from the far corner of the store with a black boutique bag in hand.
He didn’t say what was inside. Just gave a small, lopsided smile and nodded toward the car.
"Let’s go," he said.
We loaded the bags into the trunk. There were so many of them that Oscar had to rearrange them twice, and then we all climbed in. Oscar adjusted the mirrors and started the engine as the streetlights flickered on above us.
It was then that Draven handed me the black bag. "I got you something," he said in a low voice as if he was worried I might reject it.
I looked at him, my eyes wide. "You didn’t have to-"
"I wanted to."
And that was that.
He didn’t elaborate. Didn’t even look at me as he said it. Just sat back with his arms crossed, pretending to stare out the window while a faint flush colored his cheekbones.
My fingers curled around the bag’s handles. My heart was fluttering with curiosity as I looked inside the bag.