It's become a habit of yours to feed crows. While their dark feathers are far from beautiful compared to doves, most people underestimate the intelligence crows possess. Not only do they remember someone by their faces, but they also display a sort...
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I took a quick shower, maybe less than 15 minutes. But, I spent another half an hour in the bathroom, contemplating whether I should complain or simply put on the dress. A black, sleeveless, body-fit dress with a slit that goes up to the thigh, made of cashmere and a layer of chiffon covering the exposed part of the chest seems regular enough. But, the red fur scarf looked ridiculously like something out of a mafia movie. Even as the reflection stared back at me in the mirror, it feels strange, in a way.
Hesitantly, I opened the bathroom door, only to be greeted by Sylus, throwing on his black blazer over his shoulders, like a cape. He turned around to face me with a nonchalant expression, sauntering over. I noticed his eyes lingering down to my figure for a little longer until his eyes flickered back to my face.
"Took you long enough," he rolled the sleeves of his button up, exposing his toned forearms. "Your face is all bare. Did you don any makeup at all?"
"Not really, no," I shrugged. "Is it necessary?"
"Very. People might think I'm dragging a patient out of a hospital," he walked towards the dressing table to open its drawer. "I was saving this for your gift later, but you leave me no choice," he beckoned over for me to sit in front of the dressing table, and so I did.
Looking at the reflection in the mirror, I just noticed how pale my face looked in comparison to the saturated red fur scarf wrapped around my shoulders. And, for once, I mentally agreed to Sylus's words. Glancing down, the drawer in front of me is lined up neatly with cosmetics in every shade a cosmetic brand would release to match everyone's skin tones.
"Dior? Clé de Peau Beauté? Charlotte Tilbury?" i looked at Sylus from the mirror, a lopsided smirk adorning his face.
"The salesperson asked your skintone, but in case it doesn't match you, I bought one of each shade," he leant down to grab a bottle of foundation. "I think this one matches your skin tone though."
Still in awe, I reluctantly took the bottle from his hand, staring at it. "You could've just told me to bring some makeup."
"I don't think your brand of makeup would last longer than two hours," Sylus had both of his hands on the chair's arm rest, trapping me in between his arms.
This man — sometimes he's awfully nice to buy me things out of my price range, but his playful insults made me feel like a peasant in His Highness presence. Internally, I wished I could scream at his face and say that his money would only last for so long, but I forgot that he literally owns the N109 Zone.
Sighing in defeat, I picked out the rest of the cosmetic to match the outfit's look, separating it from the rest of the unused makeup. So, I went with the steps; foundation, concealer, a bit of contour, powder, blush, eyeshadow, mascara lipstick, and lastly, eyeliner. How I hate doing eyeliner. Pulling the chair closer to the mirror, I raised my arms to rest my elbows on the table, the fine tip of the eyeliner floating on the end of my eyes.
