Fury’s wearing a-
Strife’s head snapped up to the sound of light rustling of fabric. He did a double take. This couldn’t be right. "Fury?"
The she-Horseman stopped short of her brother and smirked at him, her arms folding elegantly over her chest. "At this rate, you'll be catching flies in no time, brother," she nodded pointedly at his hung jaw, her smile widening when he snapped it shut at once.
"You're wearing a dress," he exclaimed incredulously, staring at the long, satiny robe that hugged every curve of her body, a far cry from the hardened warrior that she was.
Fury released a chuckle, the sound was deep and rich. "What, this old thing?"
"What’s the matter, brother?” Strife's gaze shot to the eldest crossing the room to stand beside Fury. “Never seen a woman in a dress before?" amusement dripped from his tone.
"No," Strife grumbled, an embarrassed flush searing through his cheeks. "It's just that I've never seen our sister wear a dress."
Fury continued to laugh. "Well, if I am to go on this Va-len-tine date with Y/N, I should at least make the effort to look presentable."
"By human standard, she means," the youngest brother appeared, walking over to stand at her opposite side. The rigid harsh lines were still etched on his face although his tone was light and even held a playful lilt.
Fury turned her attention to Strife again, her smile slowly slipping away. "You've been gawking at me since I came to you,” she gestured to her dress, “Does it look horrible or-?"
“NO.”
The three brothers shouted in unison. Fury blinked.
“You look fine-"
"-endearing!"
"-beautiful!"
Her eyebrows shot upwards in surprise. Fondness and excitement gleaming vibrantly in her eyes.
All traces of self-doubts vanished instantly. She was satisfied.