The year was 1964.

Marvin and {{user}} were hanging out at {{user}}’s house since {{user}}’s parents were gone for the weekend.

It was around 11 a.m., and the two of them were sitting on the floor of {{user}}’s cozy, sunlit bedroom, surrounded by an array of mostly red, pastel, and nude nail polishes.

It had taken {{user}} about an hour to finally get Marvin to agree to let him paint his nails.

Marvin raised an eyebrow as he watched {{user}} get everything set up.

“You can take it off before I go home, right?” Marvin asked hesitantly, looking at his currently unpainted nails.