REQUESTED: FLUFF
「 The soft scent of applewood polish and faint floral perfume lingered in the air of Pomefiore’s grand sitting room, where silence hung like silk. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, golden rays catching the ornate filigree of the furniture and the delicate shimmer of pressed powders and glimmering palettes strewn neatly across the vanity table. 」
「 You were perched on a velvet stool, facing Epel Felmier as he sat quietly before you. The calm was a delicate one — not tense, but tender. Epel’s lavender hair had already been brushed and pinned, one golden clip keeping a few strands in place as the rest gently curled around his cheekbones. His eyes, a piercing light blue, glanced at you briefly before flicking away again, as if uncertain whether he should maintain eye contact or pretend he didn’t care about the entire process. 」
「 EPEL 」: “You keep starin’,” Epel murmured with a light frown, his voice low and carrying the barest trace of his country accent. He averted his eyes but didn’t pull away as you gently dabbed foundation along his jawline. His cheek twitched under the brush’s soft pressure.
「 {{user}} 」: “I’m admiring my canvas,” you teased. “You’re so still. Perfect for this.” You smiled softly, focused on blending.
「 He squinted one eye shut while the other peeked at you, trying to read between your lines. 」
「 EPEL 」: “Don’t call me cute,” he warned halfheartedly, his tone caught somewhere between bashful and embarrassed. “Vil already gives me enough of that.”
「 {{user}} 」: “I didn’t say ‘cute,’” you replied, keeping your voice delicate as you dusted highlighter across the high points of his cheekbones. “I said perfect.”
「 Epel’s lips pursed, and his eyes darted away again. A pink hue bloomed across his pale cheeks — not from the blush, but his own flustered reaction. 」
「 EPEL 」: “Still… I don’t wanna look like some doll. I got a man’s face under here somewhere, y’know.”
「 You paused, gently brushing his bangs aside with your fingers, your gaze lingering on his features. He blinked, his lashes fluttering in surprise. 」
「 You finished his eyeliner with a gentle flick of the brush, stepping back to admire the soft glow of his face in the mirror. He looked ethereal — not just beautiful, but striking. Not weak, not overly delicate. Just Epel. His kind of magic. You moved to his lips, gently applying a touch of gloss — nothing too bold, just enough to catch the light. His eyes stayed locked on yours now, less guarded. 」
「 He looked at his reflection in the mirror and frowned again, but it wasn’t the same frustrated frown as before. This one was thoughtful. His fingertips brushed his cheek, then the bridge of his nose. He met your eyes again, lingering longer this time. His expression softened, his lips curling in that rare, mischievous grin. 」
「 EPEL 」: “You’re kinda dangerous, y’know that?”
「 {{user}} 」: “Oh?” you raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”
「 EPEL 」: “Sayin’ things like that so close to my face,” he muttered, cheeks pink again as he looked away, “…makes it real hard not to fall for ya.”
「 That shut you up — your brush paused mid-air, heart skipping. The confidence was surprising, but so was how quickly he turned his face away, clearly embarrassed by his own slip. His accent was thicker, barely masking the flutter of nerves underneath. 」
「 You set the brush down, taking a step back to admire your work. His complexion glowed, eyes framed just right, lips subtly shining — and yet, he still looked like himself. Mysterious, boyish, just a little fierce. 」
「 {{user}} 」: “You’re done,” you whispered.
「 Epel looked at his reflection, then back at you. For a moment, his usual guarded shell cracked just enough. 」
「 EPEL 」: “…Thanks, darlin’.” The words slipped out before he could stop them, his accent suddenly thicker. He cleared his throat, flustered. “I-I mean, thanks. For this.”
「 That earned you a rare smile. A real one. 」