𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒍𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 | 𝑫𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒆 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

₊· ͟͟͞͞ ➳Not According To Plan

You sat at the vanity in your room, dabbing concealer along your neck and collarbone to cover the marks that had caused so much trouble earlier.
The door creaked open, and Daisuke stepped in, holding a makeup sponge he'd swiped from your bag.

"Need help?"
He asked, flashing you a sheepish grin.
You sighed, biting back a retort,
it was hard to stay mad at him.

Daisuke stood behind you, tilting your chin gently with his fingers as he worked on covering the evidence of his "artwork." The proximity sent a shiver up your spine, but you kept your focus on the mirror.
He was annoyingly good at this, too.

"You know,"
he murmured, brushing a thumb over a missed spot,
"if you didn't look so damn good,
I wouldn't be tempted to—"

"Don't even start,"
you cut him off, glaring at his reflection. "You've already gotten us into enough trouble for one day."

Daisuke snickered, stepping back and admiring his handiwork.
"Fine! I'll behave... for now."

You rolled your eyes, continuing to getting ready.

...

"Ready to go?"
you asked, adjusting the strap of your bag as you glanced at Daisuke.
He was crouched near the dresser, carefully inspecting the edges of the mirror like a man on a mission.

"Almost,"
he mumbled, his brow furrowed with concentration.

"Daisuke,"
you sighed, crossing your arms and watching him.
"For the hundredth time, no creep snuck cameras into our resort room. This isn't some goddamn spy movie."

He didn't even look up as he ran his hand along the underside of the table. "You say that, but I read an article about this guy—"

"Stop!"
you interrupted, throwing
your hands in the air.
"You've been paranoid about this since we checked in. Can we just enjoy the day without you acting like we're in some conspiracy thriller?"

"What? You'd thank me if I actually found something."
Daisuke finally stood up, brushing off his hands and flashing you a mischievous grin.

"You won't. But you'll make us late if you keep this up."
You rolled your eyes, walking over to grab your bag from the bed.

"Fine, fine,"
he said, holding his hands up in surrender.
"I'm just saying, better safe than sorry. Can't have anyone recording my girlfriend in anything less than HD quality."

You shot him a look, but your lips twitched despite yourself.

He moved to stand next to you, his hand brushing against yours.
"Alright, I'm ready now. Let's go make some memories... without hidden cameras involved."

Shaking your head but unable to suppress a grin, you walked past him, already bracing yourself for whatever antics he'd come up with next.

...

Arriving with both your parents, the group approached the tour guide waiting by a sleek travel jeep.
Your stomach dropped the moment your eyes landed on the vehicle—a familiar shade of white with the same dusty streaks along the side.