“Querida/o. You know I like how you do it,” Valeria pressed the paint container back into your palm, eyes almost level with yours as you sat on her desk.

She was insistent that you did her face paint, claiming she couldn’t do it as well as you could. Who are you to say no?

While you opened the container to start working, her hand drifted and absent mindlessly held your hip to support you on the desk.

“Gracias encantadora.”