mona lisa , chris sturniolo

22 | i want a hot waiter to wink at me

♫ always you / louis tomlinson ♫
☆
i should've known
i could feel it, oh, i can feel it
i'm wastin' my time when it was always you
chasin' the high, but it was always you

🍊 🍊 🍊

| real life |

real life

"Bryn!" Madi's startled shriek catches me off guard, and my hand that is carefully applying mascara jerks in surprise.

"You are so lucky I didn't get that all over my eyelid," I lean closer to the mirror in Chris and I's shared bathroom, making sure there are no mascara smudges that I am missing.

"I dropped my lipstick in the toilet!" Madi wails.

"What?" I sputter with laughter and turn to see her peering down into the toilet, a miserable look on her face. "How did you do that?"

"I don't know!" Madi whines. "It just happened!"

"You gotta fish it out," I chuckle, finishing my mascara while Madi stares longingly at the toilet.

She sighs, running a hand through her straightened hair. "I would rather not."

"It's clean water, you're fine." I toss my mascara back into the drawer that I took over and focus my attention on my dark haired friend.

Madi grumbles in frustration, but tugs up the sleeve of her white sweater and carefully reaches into the toilet. "Ugh!" She grumbles, tossing her lipstick into the garbage. "My poor lipstick."

"I have one in that exact tone," I dig through my drawer while Madi washes her hands, and I present her with my lipstick. "Don't drop it in any toilets, please."

"I'll try my hardest," Madi rolls her eyes, quickly swiping on the pink lipstick and puckering her lips. "I'm ready!"

"Hang on," I reach out, adjusting the barrette in her hair. "There. You look incredible, Madi."

The younger girl beams at me. "Thank you! You look amazing, too."

"Well, you know," I jokingly flip my hair over my shoulder, grinning when Madi laughs.

Grabbing my own tube of red lipstick, I duck out of the bathroom and cross the hall to my room to grab my clutch.

"I'm going upstairs!" Madi calls from the hallway, her footsteps already retreating.

I don't bother to reply, focused on looking for my white high-top Converse. I remember unpacking them earlier, but I don't recall what I did with them after that.

"Hey," a light tap on my door frame pulls my gaze away from the bottom of my closet. Chris is stepping into my bedroom, dressed in nice grey pants and a white short sleeved dress shirt.

"Aw, you look so cute!" I grin when Chris blushes slightly.

"I am not cute. I am dashing as fuck," Chris states seriously.

"Okay, Mr. Dashing as Fuck." I pull my eyes away from him, returning to my search. "Do you see my white high-tops anywhere?"

Chris shuffles behind me. "They're right here."

I spin around to see him holding up my shoes with a grin on his face. "They were tucked under the edge of your bed," Chris hands me my shoes, and I don't miss the quick movement of his eyes flickering over my body. "You look nice."

"Thanks," I laugh lightly, bending to tug on my shoes before double checking my appearance in the mirror leaning against the wall. I am wearing a black dress, one of the two that I own, and my hair is hanging in loose curls. "I am ready to go." Straightening up, I look at Chris again. "Your hair looks really good right now."