“Love, stop it!” Alex whined, grabbing yet another tissue to try and wipe away the lipstick stain you left on his cheek. His cheeks were already flushed as is and the smudged lipstick smeared along his face wasn’t helping much.

You and Alex stood in the dressing room backstage, the others waiting for you outside. He could hear the last song of the opening band playing, which only worsened his anxiety. Unfortunately for him, he was covered in red kiss marks, some of which lined along just above the collar of his shirt. Now he was desperately trying to scrub away the stains left by you, too embarrassed to go on stage covered in your lipstick.

“You know I have to go.” Alex pleaded, his voice just as whiny as before. Truth was, he craved that sort of attention from you, just not when he’d make a fool of himself in front of a crowd… or so he thought. So he kept trying (and failing) to scrub his face clean, wiping away the traces of your kiss despite his want to leave them there.