Fictional Character Dti Outfit Novels & Stories

I slid them on quickly, flattening the bundles as best I could and tucking them low into the waistband, pressing them tight against my skin until they felt secure. Then I reached into Dante’s closet, fingers brushing through rows of perfectly pressed clothes until I found one of his oversized polos. I slipped it on quickly, the fabric cool against my skin before settling warm over me. It hung loose, swallowing any hint of a bulge, draping just enough to hide what I’d tucked beneath. The fabric hung loose and long, swallowing any trace of the money beneath. His scent clung to me, warm and maddening, a reminder of everything I was trying to run from.

An arm draped itself across his shoulders, fingers brushing his neck. The smirk formed in his mind before it ever reached his lips. He let a scowl replace it instead. “Well, don’t you look rather dashing tonight,” a voice murmured in his ear. Taiga turned his head, slowly. Dante. Of course. He was dressed in some over-the-top designer two-piece. The pants looked like joggers but definitely weren’t. The top hugged his body like a second skin, emphasizing muscle in all the right places. His hair was slicked back, completely out of place in this setting, and yet somehow still worked for him.

"Hai combattuto di nuovo con dei cattivi?" (Uncle! Uncle!. Did you fight some bad guys again?) Dimitri may be wearing pants while I wore his T-shirt, but this was far from PG. She first notices his wounds. But... Who's this little girl? How come she's in an abandoned clinic in an abandoned place? "Si," He chuckled, tickling the girl's sides. She giggled, her dark braids bouncing. She wore another band F-shirt as a dress, this one death, and long socks covered with kittens.

I crossed my arms. “She’s got a point.” Cory snickered and walked away. Dmitry sighed. “Danica. I like all the clothes. And I like you in the clothes. But I just wanted to see that you liked them, since you will be the one wearing them.” I shifted to lean on one foot. “Oh.” He looked me up and down. I was now wearing a pair of tight black jeans. The top he gave was grey and felt like the softest cotton I had ever touched. Dmitry paired it with a pair of cute leather black ankle boots. But this wasn’t a picture day outfit.

It was not a hospital, but a high end clothing store, the windows filled with mannequins draped in designer suits. "Are you sure this is the right place?" I asked, "This isn't a hospital." Dante finally opened his eyes. "My clothes are ruined Liam. I have a meeting to get to and I can't go looking like this." He shrugged. I scoffed, my disbelief growing with every word. Seriously, was he stupid or he just had misplaced priorities.

Dimitri's growl came low and threatening behind me. "I'm just going to wait for you guys in the hall." Derek sputtered out before fleeing quickly. "Really, Comrade?" I sighed. "He wasn't going to do anything. You might as well let them look because that's the best they're going to get." I laughed walking into my closet. My "Guardian" attire mainly consisted of black and white articles, but I was now adding a splash of color to the bland black and white.

Right now, I'm going over fashion trends so I know how to dress when I start. A knock on the door has me looking up from the laptop "Come in" a woman dressed in pants and a chiffon blouse walks in. I can tell she's only a few years older than I am "Can I help you?" She studies me, frowning at the shirt I'm wearing. I should be in my clothes but Dante's shirts are comfortable and they smell really good. I had a hard time parting with them so I decided not to. It's not like he minds it. "I am Talia"

This place looked too good to be true. I notice that I am wearing a thin white sleeveless dress but that's not the most surprising thing. Next to me is Dimitri, he is wearing a black fitted t-shirt and black jeans and his hair was styled in a quiff. The sun shines down on his beautifully tanned skin, a butterfly sits at the tip of his finger. I watch as he looks down at me with his long lashes fanning his cheeks. I watch as he pours himself a cup of tea and takes a small sip.

"And I can only do that if I...okay, pretend you're Dhiraj and keep your character. I need the outfit. The accent and the elastic in her hair, and those fancy jewelry you borrowed. "The watch and ring are mine," he said quietly, not moving to pick up the clothes or the Rubber band. She shook her head. “They are from Dhiraj. Put on the suit so I can think of you like that. He rubbed his hands over his forehead and face. Hard. I hated to see the anguish on her face, But it was time for the truth.

Confidence hung on him like a second skin. Dimitry joined him a moment later, shrugging into a white, loose-fitted linen shirt, the material nearly translucent against his tan skin. It clung damply at the chest and fell open at the collar in an artful mess, enough to tease a sculpted build that made heads turn without effort. A pair of faded, well-fitted beige chinos completed the look, along with aviator sunglasses tucked into the open neckline. They didn’t speak much as they stepped out.