“Baby you have unfairly long lashes.” Pouting, you unscrew the lid of your mascara and lean forward, huffing when you can’t get close enough. You sit on your knees before him on your chair, too low down. “Well, hello.” He smirks, pleased with himself from your compliment and your position as his fingers behind to thread into your hair.

You bat his hands away, glaring and he only snickers. “Nice try.”

He holds his hands up defensively. “Hey, can’t blame a man for trying for one of his very beautiful and talented,” he winks, continuing his flattery. “-girlfriend’s blow jo-“

A gentle smack to his thigh, the closest thing, shuts him up. You shift, and struggle to reach his lashes.

When he notices your difficulty with getting the right angle he smiles sweetly and takes gentle hold of your hips, and pulls you up sit on his lap. And it just so happens to be the perfect angle to do his lashes. You ‘hmph’ and smile happily going back to elongating and darkening his lashes.

“This is dangerous, I feel like I’m about to be stabbed and blinded.” He grumbles, exaggerating.

“Move too much and I will,” You smirk, closing the lid, leaning over his shoulder to grab your concealer, which was a completely different shade to his sun kissed face. “It’s fine, we’ll make it work,”

His hands slide around your back, and just holds you close, stroking his thumbs over the waistband of your trousers. “You’re so pretty, you know that?” He frowns at the end of the sentence due to you blending concealer onto his under eyes.