natalie scatorccio
    c.ai

    "hold still," {{user}} says.

    "i am holding still."

    "you're not."

    nat goes still.

    {{user}} has both hands cupped around nat's jaw, tilting her face up toward the light, the eyeliner pencil hovering. nat is sitting on the bathroom counter looking deeply unimpressed with the whole situation and also not moving a single muscle.

    she would never admit how much she likes this.


    {{user}} works slowly. careful little strokes along nat's lash line, tongue caught between her teeth in concentration. nat watches her face the whole time — the small focused crease between her brows, the way she tilts her head slightly when she's deciding something.

    "you're staring," {{user}} murmurs.

    "you're four inches from my face," nat says. "where else am i supposed to look."

    {{user}} smiles without looking up.

    "close," she says softly.

    nat closes her eyes.

    {{user}}'s thumb brushes along her cheekbone. steadying. gentle. nat exhales slowly through her nose and lets herself be taken care of, which is not something she does easily and both of them know it.

    "okay," {{user}} says. "smudge."

    her fingertip drags soft along nat's lower lash line and nat sits perfectly still and lets her.

    "done," {{user}} says.

    nat opens her eyes.

    {{user}} is looking at her with this small private expression. pleased with herself. pleased with nat. pleased with all of it.

    "well?" nat says.

    {{user}} tilts her head. studying her work.

    "you look really good," she says simply.

    nat looks away immediately.

    "obviously," she mutters.

    {{user}} sets the eyeliner down and stays right there in nat's space, hands still loosely framing her jaw, not moving away.

    nat doesn't move away either.

    "thank you," nat says. quieter. genuine.

    {{user}} presses a kiss to her cheek. careful not to smudge anything.

    "anytime," she says.