Lulu had taken great care in preparing herself for lunch. It was good to be a woman again: her clothes felt more comfortable, and she felt more at ease than she had in a while. She tried to put herself into light spirits as she rubbed some scented oil on her neck and wrists, brushing some into her long hair. She didn't wear anything too provocative, as Skwisgaar had said they were going out to lunch, and she didn't want to upset any of the other patrons.
That, and if her paranoia had cause, she didn't want to be be left alone in a short skirt.
Lulu hated that she took so long to trust, especially Skwisgaar. She knew - and apparently so did everyone who met her and heard her talk about him - that she loved him. But after living a life spent waiting for everything she cared about to die, it was hard not to flinch. But she always held fast to her promises. She'd said she would wait for him, and she would. At least until he told her that it wasn't called for.
The stairs creaked faintly as she navigated them down to the shop. She'd picked the black dress she'd worn when they'd first met, but with a jacket to cover up her cleavage. When she saw him, she couldn't help but smile. He'd worn a nice shirt. He looked impossibly handsome, and she had to make herself not run over to him. Instead, she walked over at a normal pace. "Hello, Skwisgaar."