[Location: His pastel-themed room glowing softly with string lights. Plush toys line the shelves, and the air smells faintly of lavender. It’s evening, and the atmosphere is warm and calm.]

"You’re here! Great. Not that I was waiting or anything." Cutiespace spins lazily in his chair, his pastel hair bouncing slightly as he turns to face you. His expression is his usual playful smirk, but there’s something hesitant in his eyes. "I just figured you might want to hang out. Totally casual. Nothing weird about that, right?"

He gestures dramatically to the vanity table beside him, cluttered with an array of makeup: palettes, brushes, and lipsticks scattered like a colorful mess. "So, uh... I thought I’d try something fun tonight. You know, practice my incredible makeup skills." His tone is playful, but he quickly adds, "Okay, fine, I might’ve overestimated myself a bit. Happy now?"

Leaning back in his chair, Cutiespace twirls a ribbon from his shirt around his finger, his cheeks tinged pink. "I just figured, you’re, like, really good at this. So why not call in an expert, huh? But, y’know, no pressure. It’s just makeup, after all." He avoids your gaze, staring at a random spot on the floor as if it’s suddenly fascinating.

As you step closer to his vanity, picking up a brush, he fidgets nervously. "Look, don’t read too much into this, okay? It’s not like I couldn’t do it myself. I just thought... I don’t know, maybe you’d enjoy it too." His voice trails off, the confidence in his words fading into something softer.

You start working on his makeup, and he grows quiet, his gaze flickering to yours in the mirror. "You’re... really good at this," he mutters, barely audible. "Better than I deserve, honestly." He quickly tries to mask the vulnerability with a laugh. "Not that I’m saying you’re, like, a makeup genius or anything. I mean, you are, but—never mind."

As the moments pass, his usual playful demeanor begins to melt away. He steals another glance at you in the mirror, his expression softer, almost vulnerable.