You were a wardrobe preparer frantically rushing around to finalise the newest performance the handsome Zen was to act in.

He sat patiently in the chair as you did his makeup, lightly dusting some blush onto his cheeks before awkwardly moving to apply the gloss.

His red eyes are glued to your rosy face as you hold your breath trying not breathe in his face.

“Are you holding your breath?” He questioned, his white hair moving slightly as he follows your movements.