Yosano purses her lips, examining the cuts and creases in the blue shade that taints her lips. Her eyes travel further down as she pushes her lips out, eyeing where the blue stops and the skin inside her lip begins, too wet to hold any product. She moves her lip between a smile and a frown, paying close attention to both if the product is even, but also if the inside of her lip shows. It doesn’t show, just as she had expected. She had always been good at applying lipstick, just a quick swipe over her lips, and then she mixed it together by shifting her lips together. It was an easy process, one she was good at from practice.
She glances to the side of the mirror, watching the reflection of her boyfriend in the background shuffling through the box of shoes they kept near the entrance to their apartment. The box was filled to the bring with both of their items, overflowing with shoes, but still organized to keep the items safe and neat. Both the two were fashionista’s, always on the lookout for the newest trend or fashionable item. They were dressed to impress—neither would be caught dead in public without at least one designer outfit. They were an expensive couple, but hardworking to get to that point—they had been through enough pain to enjoy the luxury of overpriced clothing.
She takes one last glance at her makeup, checking over how it looks, and then stands upright and turns towards the redhead behind her. Her eyes flicker towards him before calling out. “Chuuya-san, dear~.”
Chuuya’s head tilts to the side, glancing behind him to spot Yosano. Without stopping what he’s doing, he grunts and calls back. “Yeah?”
“Come over here, ‘mkay?”
He doesn’t often resistance, but sends a quizzical gaze her way. She doesn’t respond, and so he shuffles his feet and moves across the hardwood floor to the bathroom where she was getting ready. He maneuvers around the door and squeezes between Yosano so he can stand by her side in front of the mirror. His feet point outwards as he bounces between them, his eyes still staying glued to Yosano, who has yet to acknowledge his existence.
Yosano hmphs, a gust of air roaring from her lips. She sets the lipstick down on the counter, turns on her heels and shoves her face in Chuuya’s. Chuuya falls back, pulling away from where she had suddenly invaded his space, and calming his heart rate. When the shock subsides, he steps forwards and leans in, expecting her to meet him in a kiss, but she blocks him with a hand to his mouth. He goes to speak, sputtering, but she shushes him and leans closer. He decides not to ask, letting the woman do as she pleases and be on her way.
She pulls on his skin and examines—he had no sign of redness or puffiness, his skin was clear and tanned, and his bone structure was perfect. His lips were at a perfect level of plumpness, and his eyes were upright and sharp. His face, overall, was seemingly perfect, and an overall perfect canvas for Yosano, as well.
“Let me do your makeup.” She demands.
“ Huh ?” Chuuya sputters, and then he pulls back. “Why the hell would I let ya do that ?”
He smoothes out the ruffles in the jacket crumpled around his shoulders, and then he looks back up at his girlfriend in front of him. A frown curls on his lips, but she just looks back at him with bright eyes.
“You would look stunning in makeup—let me make you my canvas.”
Churuya looks at her in complete disbelief, his eyebrow cocked and his frown visible. Yosano, on the other hand, looks unphased and normal. However, Chuuya recognized the look in her eye—the sparkle in her eye she gets when she wants something. He sighs.
“ N-No way ! What are ya on?” He crosses his arms. “There’s no way I’d put that shit on—there’s no use in it, an’ it looks better on you, anyways.”
Yosano rests her hand against the counter, leaning up and propping her leg against it. She pouts, then bats her eyes and gives him that look.
“...” A hand rises to his temple—he rubs at it in small circles. “ Fine , whatever. Nothin’ much, okay? No going… crazy with it.” He waves towards her face.
She sits upwards, her face lighting up in an instant. A small noise of pleasure escapes from her, and a smile spreads across those blue-tainted lips. Chuuya is still frowning, but he can’t help but crack a tiny smile over his face as he watches her rummage through her makeup bag.
She holds a hand up to his face, comparing their shades. She was a little paler than him, but she doesn’t think it will matter much, so she dabbles a small bit of foundation on the back of her hand and reaches for her blending sponge. She dips into the foundation and reaches up, dabbing it onto his chin. He recoils back, taking a deep breath of air in and grunting. “Why’s it so damn cold and sticky ?”
She laughs, tilting her head. “That’s what foundation is.”
“It’s fuckin’ gross.” But he lets her continue, a grimace on his face as she continues to dab. It wasn’t a full coverage, only in a few places to provide a better base—she wasn’t going for a full on glam look with him.
She steps back, looking at him from a distance. It didn’t seem to do much, his skin already being clear, but she can notice the difference. Her hands again begin rummaging through her makeup bag, before she grabs out a brush and contour.
“What’s that?” He grunts, pointing towards the box.
“Contour, to sculpt your face.”
A puff of air rises out his nose. “Are ya saying I’m not sculpted? I’m sculpted for the Gods!”
“Nothing of the sort.” She answers, before going right back to work, dabbling the brush in the contour and following his jawline. She applies light layers, like the makeup look. She moves to his cheeks, using sweeping motions to round out his cheeks. Again, she steps back and makes sure it’s even before going right back to rummaging through her bag.
She continues the process with light layers of blush, highlight and eyeshadow—it’s just a peach look, hard to notice unless you squint or get close enough to spot detail. Chuuya’s been grumbling through the process, asking questions like a child—“When are ya gonna be done?” or “Why’s it feel so weird? ”—but complying, nonetheless. When she smears the last bit of eyeshadow on his eyelid, she pulls back and admires her work.
She tilts her head, bites her lip, and mumbles. “One last step…” Before going back to rummage through her bag.
Chuuya’s been picking at his nails for the past few minutes, bored out of his mind, growing uncomfortable with the makeup hot and wet on his face, and sick of standing for so long. Yosano’s been happy to practice on another face, and happy he’d let her do it, because she knew how reluctant he was to do it in the first place. She finds the compartment in her bag where she keeps her lipstick, searches through the pile and piles of choices, and chooses a nude color perfect to tie the look all together. She pops the cap off and twists it up, watching the stick pop up out of the compartment.
She grasps his face, and he seems to get the message, pursing his lips and winking at her. She rolls her eyes but shrugs it off. With her other hand, she rolls the lipstick over his lips, careful not to smear. When she’s done, she commands. “Mix it together.”
He complies, mixing the lipstick on his lips together like he had been asked. Then, he looks up at her. “Good?”
“Mhm.” She nods, eyes moving up and down over over his face to examine closer. She had gone with a nude look, nothing much—the most noticeable feature was the lipstick, differing from his normal lip shade. The eyeshadow or contour wasn’t heavy, and so it blended nicely into his face. The eyeshadow just brightened his eyes and the highlight sparkled as he moves. “Perfect.”
“Oh, so now I look perfect.” He grumbles.
She chuckles. “Well, of course!”
“So that’s why ya wanted me to let ya put makeup on me…” He grumbles and moves his arms away from where he had them crossed against his chest. And then, he steps forward with one foot and smashes his lips against her lips, giving a peck on her lips and stepping away. A small noise sounds from Yosano’s lips. He starts talking as he walks away. “Let’s get going, yeah?”
“You mixed our lipstick together!”
He grabs his coat and turns back to her, tilting his head and cocking his eyebrow. “Does it matter? I didn’t want the damn makeup on in the first place.”
“I- I- I suppose not, but…!” A blush has creeped it’s way across her face, lighting her skin up a bright pink. She furrows her eyebrows. “Yeah… Let’s get going.”
She steps into the hallway, grabs her coat, and takes off with him, blush still bright.