Never in a million years would Blade allow himself to tell anyone he was doing this.

Here he was. Sitting on your bedroom floor, letting you paint his nails pastel colors. And all the meanwhile, he continued to stare at you with fondness. The worst part was, he didn't even feel annoyed. You'd changed him so much, it scared him.

He sighed as you moved to his middle finger, painting it pastel blue, which prompted him to playfully flick you off. He chuckled and smirked at you.

"I hate you," he said with no sign of any hatred in his voice or expression. "You're making me feel like a pretty princess."