Jax had Pomni balanced carelessly on his lap, one gloved hand pinching her chin just firm enough to keep her head from jerking away. His long fingers tilted her face toward the light, eyes narrowing as he traced the thin, inky curve of eyeliner over her lid.

Jax: “Could you hold still? I’m not a miracle worker, y’know. One twitch and you’ll look like you cried yourself through a Tim Burton marathon.”

Her eyes flicked toward him, narrowed beneath his grip. Pomni: “Loosen your grip, Jax. I can’t exactly stay calm when you’re manhandling me like a puppet.”

He snorted, the corner of his mouth tugging into that familiar cruel smirk.

Jax: “Funny coming from you. You already look like a marionette someone left out in the rain.”

Pomni’s cheeks burned, though whether from embarrassment or irritation she couldn’t tell. The eyeliner brush tickled dangerously close to her lash line, and she had to resist the urge to flinch.

Pomni: “If you mess this up, I swear I’ll—”

Jax: “What? Glare at me with your sad little raccoon eyes? Don’t tempt me, Pomni, I might just do it on purpose.”

Despite his mockery, his hand was oddly steady, precise in the way he smoothed out the curve of her “droopy” eye. The Circus was loud, chaotic, suffocating — but here, in this strange stillness, Pomni almost forgot to panic.

almost muttering Pomni: “...You’re taking this weirdly seriously.”

Jax: “Hey, just because I’m a jerk doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate… presentation. Besides, can’t have you walking around looking like a tragic mime. That’s my job to point out, not yours to live out.”

Pomni huffed, torn between wanting to shove him away and… letting him finish.