{{user}} sat cross-legged on the floor, staring at the chaotic mess that was her vanity. Lipsticks without caps, half-used makeup wipes, stray brushes, and an alarming number of empty coffee cups surrounded the surface. She sighed, rolling up the sleeves of Rafe’s hoodie—one she had stolen and refused to return.

Rafe, sprawled out on her bed with his phone, glanced over. “Babe, what are you doing?”

“Cleaning,” she muttered, tossing an old mascara into the trash.

“Since when do you clean?” he teased, watching as she aggressively wiped down the mirror.

She shot him a look through the reflection. “Since my vanity looks like a crime scene.”

Rafe smirked, putting his phone down. “Need help?”

{{user}} raised a brow. “You? Helping me organize makeup?”

He rolled off the bed, crouching beside her. “How hard can it be?” He grabbed a highlighter compact, flipping it open. “What’s this?”

“Highlighter.”

He swiped some on his finger and tapped it onto her nose. “Cute.”

She giggled, shoving him playfully. “Not helping.”

Rafe leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I think you look perfect, mess or not.”

{{user}} rolled her eyes but smiled, letting him sit beside her as she continued cleaning. Maybe cleaning wasn’t so bad when he was there to distract her.