Under My Thumb // Mick Jagger

009

It was about half past seven when we arrived at the venue the band was playing at tonight. Mick told me earlier that there would be a few other bands performing alongside them since it was a festival. He proceeded to give me a whole lecture on how I was to stay by his side because it was outside and a bigger event than their previous shows.

I was sitting on the couch applying my mascara when Mick takes a seat next to me. "Missing something, Ria?" he asks.

I look up at him and shake my head. I didn't know what he meant. "Uh uh," I say and shrug my shoulders. It wasn't till I looked back down at the small mirror I held in my hands that I realized Mick was holding my eyeliner.

"Oh," I speak quietly under my breath. I reach out to take the eyeliner back from him, but Mick didn't give it to me.

"Let me help you," he says. "I'm pretty good at it, huh?" He keeps his eyes focused on his hands as he twirls the eyeliner between his fingers.

I look up at his eyes, which were already completed with his usual eyeliner, and nod my head. "Try not to stab me please," I say. I still felt quite shy, but once Mick looked back up at me and let out a chuckle, I couldn't help but do the same. I liked Mick's laugh—it was contagious.

"Well, I was planning to do exactly that, but if you don't want me to..." he says sarcastically.

I feel my cheeks get hot as Mick leans closer to me and steadies me with his warm hand on the side of my head and thumb right under my eye. He laughs once again but knocks it off before beginning to apply the makeup under my eye.

I let him finish one eye before I lean away. "What's so funny?" I ask.

"Nothing, darling," Mick brushes it off, but I wanted to know. I grab the mirror and look at the eye he had just done. Part of me expected him to have messed it up. Maybe that's why he was laughing. But the makeup looked fine—better than anything I could've done.

I look up at him and frown. "What's so funny?" I repeat my question, though this time I was more desperate for an answer. I drop my hands to my lap and pout.

"You're so funny, Ria," Mick says like it was obvious. "The way you get all warm and your cheeks turn red when I'm close to you." His lips curl up into a smile as he watches me process what he said.

I put the mirror back down on the couch and shake my head. "That doesn't happen," I argue, making Mick roll his eyes.

"You can't tell me it doesn't happen when I'm watching it happen right now," he says. He picks up the mirror and puts it on my lap. "Take a look, Ria. Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

I push the mirror away and bring my knees up to my chest, trying to hide my rosy cheeks. "You know, you really shouldn't sit like that when you're wearing a skirt that short and panties that color," he says.

I huff and drop my legs. I grab a blanket from the floor and lay it over my lap. "You really shouldn't be looking up my skirt," I tell him.

"I wouldn't do something like that," Mick says. He closes his eyes briefly before looking up at me. "But other men will. You catch all kinds of attention, Ria...but the only attention you really need..." he pauses and brushes the hair from my face before continuing. "is from me."