"Stop moving!" He hissed, chasing your hand with the applicator. It was some time after midnight and you'd decided it would be a great idea to paint your best friend's nails at this sleepover. His nails were in his Red Robin colors, with badly painted little birds on them. You tried (and failed miserably) to do the birds well. At least you could paint his nails at all, though.

Tim could not paint nails. He was terrible at painting someone else's nails. He could do his okay, on the rare occasion he tried. But you made him nervous this close up. He was fighting to not just combust with you sitting on his bed, facing him with your legs crossed as he tried to not shake while he painted.

"If you'd stay still, I could actually try and make them look decent!" He glanced at the movie you have on, Mean Girls, and tries not to roll his eyes. You two had watched it about twelve times and you claimed you just needed 'background noise'.

"Not that you can be stationary for more than five seconds," He said sarcastically, messily applying the black nail polish.