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Lee's kinda cute when she's not hiding behind those protective walls she favours so much.
That's what Abby thinks, anyway.
She's wearing this baggy t-shirt stolen from Abby's wardrobe today, legs clad in white sweatpants and tucked beneath her knees against the floor. Abby sits across from her, legs shaped like a 'W' whilst her arms reach over.
She leaves a final sweep of pigment against Lee's cheeks, placing the brush down beside her torn through case of makeup. "That's the blusher done."
Lee's eyes follow the brush towards the ground. "That looks really pink." She raises an eyebrow. "How much did you use?"
Abby grimaces. "Uh.."
In short, a lot. Too much, probably. She got a little bit lost along the way, paying far too much attention towards how soft Lee's cheeks were as opposed to where the brush was roaming.
She irons out her expression. "Enough."
"Too much?"
"No." Abby rolls her eyes, turning her back to ruffle through her case. "I said enough."
Lee huffs, fond. "Whatever— what's next?"
Abby's hands settle on a selection of various lip products, some of which she's sure haven't been touched since high school. Her stomach churns at the thought, pushing them away.
"Lip gloss," she replies. She twists her body back around, showing two different swatches of gloss — one bright red, the other a soft, nude pink. "Which one?"
".. The one that isn't bright red." Spoken like it's obvious. "Why do you even own that?"
"I dunno— stop being so fussy." Abby uncaps the lipgloss lid. "Can you part your lips a little?"
Lee does. And there begins the awkward song and dance of trying to work out exactly how to apply someone's lipgloss without getting all up close in their face. Her hands are already shaky, with Lee's lips far enough away that she has to strain her arms.
The top lip is applied relatively smooth. How? She couldn't tell you. All she knows is that the issues arise when her applicator trails to Lee's bottom lip. She gets three thirds of the way along, before a hitch in Lee's breath has the lipgloss applicator slipping off track. It leaves the soft plush of her lips abruptly, spilling over the lines and onto her chin.
"Shit," Abby grumbles beneath her breath. "Smudged it."
Lee shrugs. "..So fix it?"
"What did you think i was about to do?" Abby hisses back. She caps the lid of the gloss, placing it beside her thigh. "Asshole."
Lee chuckles. "I 'unno," she jests. "Smudge it worse?"
Abby deadpans. "God, you're insufferable." She gestures toward the empty space between them in a beckoning motion. "Come closer, then."
Lee hums. Scarred forearms reach out, her small wrists somehow managing to capture the width of Abby's thighs. Instead of shuffling close herself, she drags Abby in her direction. Petty.
Abby narrows her eyes. ".. What was that for?"
Lee shrugs, flashing a grin. "I'm closer, aren't I?"
Logic Abby can't even argue with as she rolls her eyes. Lee's hands are away, now, providing her enough room to fix her mistake.
She brings her fingers to Lee's cheek. Cold palms against warm skin, Abby's hand burning — searing, but not uncomfortable enough for her to part ways. She brushes her thumb atop Lee's glossy bottom lip, aiming for the smooth section beneath but somehow getting sidetracked along the way.
Because Lee's skin is soft. Abby doesn't get to feel it often, with her few experiences being in the form of tightly-held hands or the brushing of shoulders. And she's been okay with that. Touch was never her strong suit either, more often a bother than not. But Lee just—
She ignites this instatiable fire in her chest. Something that never seems to stop burning. To stop longing. It roars ferociously when they're together, somehow lighting brighter when they're apart. Abby wishes she could extinguish it, bring hose to the flame, but the chances it'd stay dormant are so, very slim.
Not when Lee's— well, Lee.
Abby swipes her thumb again, prodding at the corner of Lee's lip before swiping along fully. She's tender beneath her, innocent as a lamb, just staring with her large, hazel eyes. Abby hums contentedly.
Her lips are so pretty.
She thinks they'd be prettier pressed against her own. With Lee's shoulders pushed against the wall, chest heaving between not-so chaste kisses. She thinks they should push their breasts against one another — to feel the sensitive, full-body jerk they'd experience in tandem. If luck serves her well, maybe she'd get more.
But for now, all she's able to do is stare. Thumb stiff. Hot breath tracing the lower half of Lee's face. Lee glances up, expression shaking, confused. Abby's left with no choice but to rip herself away.
"Sorry," she mumbles. "Finger slipped — I'll apply it again."
Lee shrugs, parting her lips again in preparation. This time, there isn't a hitch of breath — no slip of fingers. Abby's able to line Lee's bottom lip with a coating of gloss, before drawing herself back to stretch and admire her handiwork.
.. If you can even call it that.
Growing impatient, Lee picks up the mirror from a small distance away. She brings it to her face, paling as soon as she's in frame. Ouch. She peers over the top, locking eyes. "Looks bad, chief."
Abby almost snatches the mirror to thwack it over Lee's head.
But deep down, she knows Lee's right. It does look bad.
The vivids of her pink eyeshadow don't align with the soft blues she'd added in the corners of her eyes. Her eyeliner is messy, uneven, and each flick at the end wobbles at certain points. The mascara's gone clumpy.
The blusher is far too heavy-handed — encroaching towards areas it shouldn't even dare to touch, almost at her chin. And the concealer is beginning to peel away. All blemishes made alarmingly more obvious.
"..Yeah," Abby sighs, admitting defeat as she draws the mirror away. She rests it at her side. "It does, doesn't it?"
"Well," Lee shrugs. "Only one way to fix it now."
Abby raises an eyebrow. "And.. that is..?"
Within an instant, Lee pushes her to the floor, bony fingers stretched over round wrists. She's pinned down whilst Lee tilts her head down, messy locks of hair falling around her face.
Abby's heart soars, heat rising to her cheeks — another log of wood thrown atop that fire in her chest. She squirms, pretending like she wants to escape, but really just wants to know if Lee will keep her there.
And she will. She rolls her eyes dramatically, and flicks her head over her shoulder to grab one of the brushes from the floor.
When she returns her attention over, there's a palette tucked beneath her arm. Abby's bitten off more than she can chew.
Lee flicks her head, adjusting her hair, and leans in reeeall close. "If I get to look stupid," she rasps. "Then so do you."
Abby gulps, nervous excitement hitting her chest.
Never before did she think looking stupid could be something enjoyable.