'Anya! ' called Yor through the door. 'Are you ready? It 's almost time! '

'Just a second! ' Anya called, her head half-way through her shirt.

Despite being on the receiving end of Becky 's (unsolicited) fashion advice over the years, Anya had spent an unusually long time fussing on the age-old question of

what to wear

. Although the temperature outside had dropped significantly in recent weeks, it was still warm inside the moderately-sized apartment, so Anya pulled on a pair of warm burgundy tights, with a cream corduroy mini skirt, and a striped top neatly tucked in. She thought she looked casual, but nice, and so very much

herself

that Damian would definitely think that she looked cute. She didn't know anything about hair and makeup beyond Becky 's enthusiastic interventions, so she just did her usual and kept her hair loose and flowing (the way she knew he liked it) and brushed on a tiny bit of mascara.