(Y/n) sat in front of the mirror, peacefully applying her charcoal mask.

Right on time, Cassian walked in, your cold husband. His arms crossed, cold eyes scanning her like she was something funny.

“Seriously?” he scoffed. “You look like a baked cookie.”

She didn’t even blink. “It’s my skincare.”

Cassian leaned closer, studying her face with pure judgement.

“Does it even work? You still look the same.”

That was it-

She grabbed the brush, reached up, and swiped a thick streak of the mask across his perfect cheek.

Cassian jerked back. “What the—?”

“Since you love mocking it so much,” she said sweetly, “you can experience it too.”

A few minutes later, Cassian Delamonte, the coldest billionaire in the city, was sitting beside her with a full black mask on his face, looking like the angriest panda alive.

She continued applying hers, smiling.

He muttered through clenched teeth, “I’m only doing this to prove it’s pointless.”

She hummed, “Mhm. Sure, Mr. Delamonte.”

Silence. Another dramatic sigh.

“…How long do I keep this on?”