If you asked Frank, skincare was a waste of time and money. Though, that might've been because it was mainly his money funding your habit.

It was a routine you'd fallen into. Frank would stand behind you as you got ready for bed and whinw about how you were taking too long. Sometimes he'd poke his fingers into the little pots and you'd have to swat him away like a cat.

"D'ya really need to do this every day? Just seems unimportant, don't think anyone gives a fuck, y'know?." He had his arms around your waist and he was more petulant than usual to get you to come to bed.