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Incognito

"Like, bruh. Everyone got bullied in high school. Now you just look sophisticated." She rolled her eyes at his tongue and stuck a hand that wasn't holding her lens to his shoulder and gave it a flick. "I'm trying to pay you a compliment and say you look handsome, sheesh." But she was smiling, so the bite of what she had to say dissolved instantly.

About to just shove the contact into her eye and hope for the best, Abbi was stopped from doing that by a cheek pinch. She made a whimpery sort of noise, shoving an elbow in Chris's direction.
"You can't say neither! Its one or the other." Now free of his hands she did get the lens in, blinking wildly until it settled.
"Unless you're saying you prefer both..." Still blinking she snatched up a bag and made for the door, pausing to look at him in horror.

"Or are you saying I'm not cute at all?! HOW COULD YOU?" As a show of being pouty and annoying, but also trying to hurry them out the door, Abbi grabbed at one of his sleeves and pulled him out the door and then pushed him down the hallway, all while jumping up and down.
"I'll have you know I am ADORABLE! I am super moe! LOOK AT THIS MOE FACE!" There was some pausing for her to go wide eyed and over the top, determined to be right. But it didn't last long because she did want to hurry on and get to the place before they missed their targets.

Makeover

"I...what?" He blinked again and groaned as he rolled onto his back, feeling the imprint of pressure against his cheek from staying in that position too long. Jack stretched out and yawned. "Chel, I said an hour and fifteen at most."

Incognito

Her powers were weakening, she'd lost her her way somehow.
Someone was able to ignore her pleas for attention and focus on other things... That meant he was a formidable opponent that she would simply have to work harder to vanquish.

And working harder meant increasing the cute, going so far as to moving closer and peering up at him.
"It means like the cutest cutie you ever did see." Batting eyes always worked, except wait she'd lost her pigtails in favor of a long braid over one shoulder. Damn! That was probably it!

Makeover

Chel's face fell as Jack put her between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, he had promised and that wasn't fair. On the other hand, she hated pushing people past their limits or desires, and Jack especially was included.

"You sayin' that for real or 'cause you want out?" she asked him. More quietly, "S'always fine either way. I can pack my crap up I guess." She fiddled with the ring around her finger. "I was just excited thas all." She may have been throwing in some puppy dog eyes at the last statement.

Makeover

"'Cause you look great already and makeup will make ya look damn fine." There was a particularly predatory gleam behind her eyes, one that could only belong to someone on a hunt.

"For ******** sake Jack." She picked up her concealer and a blending sponge and sat on his lap, legs straddling his sides. "Can ya please just trust me with one thing without askin' questions? Just one? Pleeeease?"

Makeover

"One, relax. I drew on Chris a million times before I can ********' do this." She gave him a very short kiss, mostly for courage. "Second, the thing about glasses and mascara's a ********' myth. You let your s**t dry then put on glasses and you're fine."

She cracked open the bottle and went to work.

contours eyebrows eyes eyeliner mascara eyelash curler lipstick

He'd never felt so distinctly at ends with himself like he did as she worked. Very little ever occurred from conscious actions he hadn't deemed completely or mostly in his favor, leaving with very little room to have regret if he even considered having any. Here, however, letting her work her magic, was a decision he was almost split down the middle about, and his trepidation slowed her work considerably as it manifested in biting remarks and cold silences.

The more she worked, the more he wondered if this was covering something or uncovering something else. The more he feared the answer.

And Then

He was teetering. Tense. Brooding and jaw flexing and all manner of uncertain tics once he was free. Chel's reaction was what pushed him off to the side.

"This was a bad idea." His hand didn't obey him; it couldn't possibly ruin work it didn't know of yet. "This was a horrible idea." His voice was hushed, a pale imitation of the real thing. He looked almost frightened to be forced to look into a mirror and gripped the couch as if to make sure it wouldn't disappear from under him.

He didn't look and in fact plastered his hand over the mirror. Looking meant accepting the simple fact that he was wearing make up, and he wasn't very sure he was ready or willing to accept it now that it was a reality as it was hard enough to accept what wearing makeup meant personally to him. Beneath the layers he felt his face was starting to grow warm, and he felt incredibly stupid that it somehow rendered him incapable of speech. Chel's words didn't resonate with him; she found almost everything with two legs hot, he reasoned, she already thought he was attractive without this stuff, this wasn't news, this wasn't anything.

The mirror seemed to fly out of his hand of its own volition. He had problems registering Chel's mad dash for his lips, understanding that the taste of lipstick wasn't solely hers anymore, realizing that he liked how smooth his skin felt gliding against hers, recognizing that this could be a separate and equal if not strange pleasure if he gave in. And he didn't realize how much he wanted to until he started to press back hard, pretend it wasn't him, be someone else for however long this lasted, a someone else that was far more present than he had been overall in the last, that fed off the friction between guilty pleasure and genuine irritation with everything and loved it. It was a short-lived burst of rare passion that he smothered seconds afterward by pushing Chel back, his heart still racing from the rush and his eyes completely avoiding hers.

He said nothing and licked his lips unconsciously, nervously.