Fashion's Princess

11| Parisian Catacombs

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Let me tell you one thing: sleeping with your best friend is the weirdest thing in the world. 

"Zack?" I mumbled as he took even more of my blanket. He didn't seem to hear so I continued. "I get that you're 6'4 and huge and like most of us require custom beds and sheets, but move yourself." I whispered, poking his rock hard shoulder. 

Without turning around, he gave me some of the sheets. "Thank you," I sighed and snuggled with my new found warmth. 

Minutes later, my source of heat was snatched away again. I poked Zack but he really didn't seem to be conscious at all. I groggily got out of bed and grabbed the gross ass airplane blanket and draped it over my body. 

You see, here's the thing about us tall people. If I'm sleeping on a normal person's mattress without curling up or being sideways like a triangle's hypotenuse, my feet are sticking out the other end. I'll wake up with sore ankles or shins, feeling the need to require an orthopedic surgeon, a chiropractor, and a podiatrist. 

So I got a custom bed that's 75 inches long to accommodate my excessive limbs. But then there's Zack, who's pretty much 75 inches already laying down and requires an 80 inch mattress to be comfortable. 

And let me tell you, be prepared to live a life of luxury if you need such a huge bed. But I'm not done yet, you need custom sheets. Your sheets have to be bigger, longer, wider than average. 

Basically, if you're tall, everything is huger than it's supposed to be. 

Rolling my closed eyes which I just discovered was possible, I fell asleep smelling whoever farted on my airplane blanket before me.

> > > < < <

"Skyler!" Zack's excited face shook me awake from my disturbed slumber. "What?" I groaned, rolling around to face the other side. I was immediately greeted with a ray of sunlight. Being the vampire I was, I retreated back to my cave and squeezed my eyes shut. 

"Let's go to the catacombs!" He shook my shoulders again. Because I forgot that Zack didn't have his own room, I had to sleep in yesterday's leggings. Usually I'm Sleeping Beauty with $5 panties and a classic H&M shirt.

"Can't the dead people wait? I'm trying to sleep." I grumbled and instantly buried my face into my pillow. 

"I ordered room service." He said and held a freaking macaron next to my ear. My arm instantly went up to snatch it but I found with nothing. 

"Get up," he ordered. Then the stupid boy went off, chewing my macaron. 

I groaned and sat up, my hair looking like a tumbleweed in those old western movies. "I'm up, give." I commanded, holding out my hand. 

He still withheld the macaron from me and gently pushed me into the bathroom and closed the door. I sighed and started to brush through my hair. 

Once that was finished, I tied it back and washed my face thoroughly, cleaning out my pores. Then I did the whole makeup thing where celebrities looked like they woke up on the right said of the bed. Just enough to cover up all my bags was the main idea of the whole look. 

I put dabs of concealer where I needed them then proceeded to use some mascara. If you ask me, Covergirl has the absolute worst lipstick. But I really loved their mascara, only Maybelline could compare in my opinion. 

So after suffering a moment of misery because I'm blonde and have virtually no eyelashes, I turned out to not be completely eyelash-bald after all. The one thing I like about mascara is that it makes my hazel green eyes look a little darker and a tad more intense.