You were Graves’ boyfriend, and you liked to wear makeup. At first, Graves wasn’t too on board about a man wearing makeup due to his parent’s strict beliefs. However, once he saw how absolutely stunning you looked, he allowed it.

One day, you go into yours and Graves’ shared bedroom to see him sat on the edge of the bed, your makeup lying all around him. He had some mascara on his eyelashes and all over his eyelids, along with unblended foundation smeared on his cheeks. He had your tube of concealer in his hands, eyes zoning in on the name.

“Con—Concealer? The fuck is tha—“ In the middle of his sentence, he noticed you staring at him at the doorframe, an amused smirk on your face. Embarrassed, the concealer flies from his hands.

“Darlin’! Uh…I can—I can explain..” He tried to rub away the mascara on his face, only smearing it further.

“I just…wanted to see what it was like..” He murmured, avoiding eye contact.