"I am never doing this again," Javi says, bent over in his chair.
He is surrounded by bags with clothes and he wonders yet again how one person manages all this. The procuring of expensive clothing is a ritual to Shoma, one set for each spring. He budgets for it, of course, down to the last cent, but nonetheless the result is staggering to Javi. There's little wonder why Shoma's clothes take up half their dresser.
Javi rubs his temples and wonders how many more bags they will have before going home.
Yuzu, on another chair and enclosed by another set of bags, seems amused.
"Shoma has always been a bit of a -- how do you say?" Yuzu asks in English. "A clothes -- donkey?"
"Horse," Javi corrects.
"Yes. He's a clothes horse."
Javi sighs and mutters in Spanish.
They wait while, in the private dressing room of the boutique, Shoma rustles and rustles.
"If this is another set of t-shirt and jeans I am leaving," Javi announces.
"It's not," Shoma says through the dressing room door. "I'm ready."
There's a tremor in Shoma's voice, a shyness that Javi doesn't notice because he is too impatient.
"Come on," Javi says.
Shoma steps out hesitantly. A spill of inky blue, black laced at the hems and around the short sleeves.
"It doesn't have shoes yet, but I like it . . ." Shoma says quietly.
"I like it," Yuzu says after a minute.
"Javi?" Shoma asks.
Javi makes a noise.
"Muy hermosa," he says.
"I guess I'll buy it, though I won't have money for shoes --"
"I'll buy the shoes," Javi says.
He nods and all he can think of is parting the folds of that dress.
Shoma buys it, concluding the shopping spree. They walk to the Metro together, buffeted by the bags they carry.