Diana remained seated on the mattress, her gaze lingering on her body. The more she stared, the more an odd mix of curiosity and nervousness bubbled up inside her. She let out a slow breath. "Might as well try," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her heart began to beat a little faster as she stood up, fingers moving to the hem of her shirt. Slowly, she pulled it over her head and tossed it aside. The attic air felt cool against her skin as she stood there, stripped down to her underwear. Her breathing was a little uneven. Her pulse quickened.
She had never done this before—not like this. She was sure it would feel alien and strange, maybe even a bit wrong. The thought made her chest tighten. Why does this feel so nerve-wracking? she wondered.
Her hands lingered at the waistband of her underwear for just a moment before she paused, catching her reflection in the mirror.
Diana blinked, realization dawning. She stared at herself for a second, then shook her head, letting out a short, relieved laugh. Get it together, she thought. I'm just trying on clothes.
She walked over to the clothing rack, pulling out the few pieces she had hung there and setting them down in a pile on her bed. With her reflection still visible in the mirror, she began trying them on.
The first outfit she grabbed was a simple red T-shirt and a pair of green cargo shorts. The shorts were loose but practical, with deep pockets on the sides. She pulled them on, giving herself a quick once-over in the mirror. Nodding, she muttered, "Okay," and moved on.
Next was a green T-shirt paired with black sport shorts. The fabric was comfortable, and it fit like something she'd wear for a casual day of errands or maybe even a jog. She nodded again, "Alright."
Finally, she tried on a blue T-shirt and grey sweatpants. The moment she pulled the pants up, they settled into the familiar feel of lazy afternoons spent lounging.
But as she stood in front of the mirror, something felt off. Diana tilted her head, eyeing herself critically. The outfits were comfortable, sure—practical, easy to wear, not ugly. But they all looked... boring. They gave off the same "don't-look-at-me" vibe she used to project when she was a boy.
That realization sat heavy in her chest. The clothes weren't bad, but they weren't fun. There was nothing exciting about them.
She glanced over at the gloomy box in the corner, the one where she'd tossed all the clothes she didn't want to deal with. Her shoulders slumped a bit, and she let out a quiet sigh. Might as well, she thought, and after a few moments of hesitation, she walked over to the box.
After rummaging through it, she dragged out a pile of random clothes and dropped them next to the others. This time, the clothes were different—skirts, crop tops, short summer dresses, and even a pair of shorts that were much shorter than anything she'd worn before.
The first piece she tried on was a light summer dress, the fabric flowing just above her knees. She twirled in front of the mirror, the soft fabric spinning out around her. A small smile tugged at her lips. Cute, she thought, feeling a small flicker of excitement.
Next, she pulled on a skirt and a crop top, the shorter cut exposing a sliver of her midriff. She looked at herself in the mirror again, her skin flushing with a mix of excitement and nerves. She twirled again, but this time the movement felt... different. Why does this feel so much more revealing than just standing in my underwear?
Even though staring at her bare body hadn't made her feel self-conscious, wearing these clothes—skirts, short shorts, crop tops—made her feel oddly exposed. The feeling crept in when she tried on a pair of very short shorts, the hem riding up higher than anything she'd ever worn. The embarrassment that had been missing earlier surged to the surface, and her hands instinctively moved to cover her exposed skin.
Her heart beat faster, her cheeks burning slightly as she looked at herself in the mirror. Why does this feel so different? she wondered. She'd always worn unrevealing clothes as a boy, and even now, something about seeing herself in these outfits made her feel flustered.
After trying on all the clothes, Diana sat back on the mattress, her mind buzzing with mixed feelings. She glanced over the pile of clothing, then reached for the white summer dress she had worn on her first day. With a small nod, she moved the dress to her "normal" clothes pile. She picked up a skirt and added it there, too. They felt... right. Maybe not all the time, but enough.
As for the rest—the crop tops, the short skirts, the tiny shorts—they were still too revealing, too much for her to handle right now. The nervousness wouldn't let her fully embrace them yet.
With a sigh, she carefully folded the revealing clothes and returned them to the box. They weren't ugly, but they weren't her—at least, not yet. Maybe someday. For now, they would stay in the box, hidden away.