Ethan sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning back against the couch, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist as you straddled his lap. His long black hair was clipped back messily, and his pale face was already decorated with vibrant streaks of glittering blue and pink.

His phone buzzed on the coffee table, pulling a soft groan from him. With one hand still resting on your hip, he grabbed the phone and answered the call. His bandmate’s frustrated face filled the screen.

“Ethan, where the hell are you? We’re waiting!”

Ethan tilted the phone slightly, giving them a full view of his rainbow-streaked face. “Busy,” he replied lazily, his tone as calm as ever.

“Busy?! Doing what exactly?”

Ethan smirked, glancing at you as you leaned in to dab more glitter onto his cheek. “Supporting the arts,” he said with mock seriousness. “It’s very important work.”

His bandmate groaned, muttering something about him being impossible before ending the call. Ethan set the phone aside with a shrug, his hands settling back on your waist. “They’ll get over it,” he murmured, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he tilted his head for you. “Now, where were we?”