Michael: A sigh of frustration brings Michael to the bathroom where you stand, shaking your head at your reflection. “What’s up?” he asks, concerned. “I’m just having a horrible hair day,” you tell him, “It’s not cooperating.” Michael moves toward you and takes your hair, lazily twirling it between his fingers. “Why don’t you do one of the cool braid things you do?” he suggests. “I tried and it just wasn’t working out,” you explain, defeated. “I’ll do it!” Michael offers. You give him an incredulous look and he laughs. “Do you know how to braid?” you ask warily. “How hard can it be?” he returns with a shrug, “You just twist the hair around.” “Alright, Michael, go for it,” you invite. Michael takes a small amount of hair in each hand and carefully wraps them around each other. “This isn’t looking right,” he admits. “Do you want a hint?” you giggle, “You’re supposed to use three pieces.” “Three?” Michael asks in shock, “Where are you supposed to hold the third one?” “In your fingers,” you laugh. “That’s insane,” he states, shaking his head, “I’m not that skilled.” “I didn’t think so,” you chuckle. “Just, like, shave your head or something,” Michael suggests, making you laugh all the more.
Luke: “Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up!” Luke whispers, getting closer and closer to your face as he watches you apply eyeliner. “Don’t mess up,” he whispers, brushing your ear with his lips. Your hand slips and a black line from your eye down your cheek appears. “Lucas Robert Hemmings!” you shout in frustration, “How could you?!” Luke laughs as you begin to wipe off the eyeliner. “Sorry,” he says, attempting to stifle his laughter. “Don’t talk to me,” you mutter, although you can’t help but smile when you catch his eye in the mirror. “I’m just bored,” he groans. “Well if you hadn’t messed me up I’d be done and we could go out,” you state with a shrug. He juts out his lower lip in a pout and you chuckle lightly. “Now go away so I can finish,” you instruct firmly. “Can I help?” he offers with a hopeful smile. “With my makeup?” you ask, confused. He nods and you sigh, handing him the eyeliner. He takes a deep breath and pulls the brush out. “It’s just paint,” he says to himself, “This can’t be that hard.” You raise an eyebrow, amused by his confidence. “Close your eyes,” he commands. “Don’t mess up,” you whisper. “I need silence,” he mutters in response. You feel the tip of the brush touch your eyelid and move across it. “It’s actually really good,” he says, sounding impressed. He moves to the next eye and again you feel the brush. He moves his hand slowly, but you feel the brush slip. “Oops,” he mutters before you feel his thumb wiping quickly at your eyebrow. “That should come off,” he mumbles, looking at the streak of black through your eyebrow. You open your eyes and look in the mirror. “How did you even do that?!” you ask in surprise. “I dunno,” he laughs, “You still look good, though. I think we’re ready to go.”
Ashton: “I have to paint my nails,” you sigh, examining your chipped nail polish. “No you don’t,’ your boyfriend, Ashton, whines, “Let’s just watch a movie.” “We can watch a movie while I paint my nails,” you suggest. “But then you won’t cuddle with me because your nails will be wet,” he pouts, having learned this lesson too many times. “They look horrible, Ash!” you laugh, showing him your nails. “I’ll paint them then,” Ashton sighs. “How would that solve anything?” you ask with a laugh. “I dunno,” Ashton mutters, scratching his chin, “I guess it wouldn’t really.” “You just wanna paint them, don’t you?” you giggle. “It looks like fun!” Ashton admits, blushing. “Fine,” you agree, “I’ll get the polish and you pick a movie.” You return seconds later and set the nail polish in front of him as he begins the horror film he selected. Ashton sets your hand on the table and slowly covers one nail in polish. “This is easy,” he says in surprise. You nod, although you are paying more attention to the movie than him. He returns to your nails and paints the second and third. He’s on the fourth when something jumps out in the movie, making you jump as well. “No!” Ashton cries when your hand jerks away, causing the brush to skim across your hand and the bottle of polish to tip over. “It was going so well!” Ashton groans, running from the room to grab a towel for the spilled polish. “Sorry, baby,” you say, trying not to laugh as Ashton mutters about how he’ll never do your nails again. “But Ashton,” you say finally, “You’re cute when you’re cleaning up nail polish.” Ashton laughs, shaking his head at you. “Well it’s not gonna happen again,” he returns with a laugh.
Calum: “Can you please tell me where we’re going?” you beg, wrapping your arms around Calum’s middle and looking up at him hopefully. “Nope!” he responds with a peck to your lips. You step away and cross your arms before asking, “Then how am I supposed to know what to wear?” “Hmm,” Calum hums thoughtfully, “I’ll pick your outfit!” “You will?” you ask, amused. “Sure,” he says before stepping toward your closet. “Here,” he says only seconds later. He tosses a pair of red shorts your way, followed by a bright orange top. You catch the clothes and instantly toss them back. “You know that doesn’t match,” you say, shaking your head. “Okay,” Calum sighs, “Try this.” A lingerie set is thrown your way. “Calum,” you say sternly, sending him a warning look. “Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles, not looking at all sorry. “Just hang on,” he mutters as he rummages through your clothes. “This is my favorite outfit on you,” he informs you as he tosses you the outfit you remember wearing the day you and Calum had met. “Aw,” you coo, smiling at him across the room. “Yeah, yeah,” Calum says, blushing, “You looked hot in it so…” “Thanks, Cal,” you chuckle at his attempt to cover up his more romantic side.
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