𝗥𝗲𝗱 | JJk ✔️

26| Him or Vincenzo

"Aren't we shooting guns and slitting throats?"

"We are," comes Noel's response before she blows on your eyeshadow. Then she stands upright, marveling at her work.

From up close, you realize she's got the most unique style of beauty. With her under-eyes so dark, her pupils glow with an innate sparkle to them. Her coral lips are full, face a canvas of pure, simple brilliance.

She reaches a hand to grab an eyeliner from the dressing tables. The golden lights from the vanity batter her skin yellow.

Sulking, you overlook her to examine your dull burgundy dress in the mirror.

"Then why am I in a dress?"

Noel turns to you. "Because—" she says, "—This is a formal, fucked up masquerade the Reaper has invited us to."

Your face contorts. "Masquerade?"

"More like a masque-trade."  She dips a fine brush in a black bottle before raising it to your face.

"Well?" You urge, "What are we trading?"

Noel gnaws on her lower lip, eyes intent and desperately analyzing the contours of your eye. She slightly sticks out her pierced tongue as she deliberately flicks the thin brush to the edge of your eye.

"Opioids," comes her voice, and you gape at her, a cold ebb of blue horror on your face.

"Opioids? like the drug?"

Placidly, she nods, expression contained. "Yeah. We're trading drugs and company shares for Bea."

So Jungkook is an illegal drug dealer after all.

'"You're kidding."

"Am not. Now hold this for me." Hesitantly, you grab the glitter palette from her, vainly glaring at the silver sparkles that match your heels.

Noel leans in, one knee pressed on your thigh as she lightly flicks the brush over your maroon eyeshadow, her lips forming words as she concentrates.

"Noel?" You ask, surprised by the meekness in your own voice. "Have you and Jungkook...ever.. you know.."

Noel's fingers pause their dainty work, her flawless eyebrows raising questionably at you. "We're married."

Your eyes widen, making her let out a small, evil laugh. "Idiot. You're so gullible."

She tugs hard on the coil of your hair and you flush.

When she's done with the glitter eyeshadow, she leans away from you. "You don't need foundation, concealer, or any of that. I'm keeping it simple and classy."

Biting a smile, you stare at yourself in the mirror. "Is that your weird way of saying I don't need makeup, I'm pretty?"

"You can be pretty and still wear makeup."

A beam playfully lights your lips, making Noel scrunch her nose at you in distaste. "Don't flatter yourself. You're ugly."

The grin on your face drops. "But I like your hair," she says, almost comfortingly. "It's the curliest I've ever seen."

Beneath the anger, you feel strangely pleasant that you're getting along with her. You fake a smile. "Why thank you bitch."

In response, she smacks her lips at you, grabbing her matte leather suit from the bed before turning to you as you glower at yourself in the mirror. To be perfectly honest, you look extremely plain.

The makeup is decent but the dress makes you look like you're about to go sell Bibles from door to door. It's thin, soothing to touch, yet so bland you feel like you'll unnoticeably fade into oblivion.