[She can feel the way that his stare lingers on her face. She wants to play this off as cool and suave and in control (things she has not been this whole montage), but, well--

She can't. She can feel the way her cheeks heat up the longer he inspects her.

... But in the end, he just agrees, and she breathes out a slow, quiet sigh of relief. Whew.

Maybe someday she could tackle makeup, but today she's already been overwhelmed by so many wonderful things with him--so this seems like plenty.]

Okayyyyy! [Brightly and cheerfully, relaxing as they turn away from the shops.]

--Oh! You've been so busy helping me, I forgot to ask. Does that mean you're already all set for the gala?