Deadly Eternities

CH8: Celebratory

       CELEBRATORY || 08

      Tiredness ringed my eyes; so darkly that not even the expensive concealer I bought in secret with my birthday money last year, was able to hide the dark circles. I groaned and continued to massage it in—at least it gave me some coverage.

      I held my breath as I picked up the mascara wand; either it would pull the look together and draw attention away from the dark circles . . . or it would do the exact opposite. Unfortunately though, this was me attempting to apply makeup, so it would probably be the latter. I brushed it against my eyelashes until it looked somewhat passable-- but just as I was about to finish off, my hand slipped while shakily applied it. I yelped as my eye began to sting, and dropped the mascara wand.

      My eye began to water and before I could think about it, I rubbed at my stinging eye. “Shit!” I cursed as I looked at my glistening, blood shot eye. My silvery iris looked like the freaking moon with the burst blood vessels around it. What was worse than the bloodshot mark in my eye (the stinging was starting to diminish, and was visibly healing already), was the smudged, inky black mascara surrounding my eyes. I glanced down to see my fingertips were covered in it too, “Fuc-dge.”

      I quickly ran to the bathroom. I opened the door awkwardly with my elbows, making sure not to get the mascara any further than it had to get. The tap over the porcelain basin was slightly harder to turn on without getting mascara on it; it soon entered the list of things to clean. I splashed water over my face and watched as the black liquid ran down the drain-- along with the creamy colored concealer-foundation I’d so aptly applied . . . damn.

      I cleaned the rest of my mess up and thanked God that I always apply my makeup before I get dressed (okay, maybe not always—but I only had to ruin one dress to learn not to do it again). The dark circles underneath my eyes were visible once more without the concealer masking them. I quickly covered them up once more, not wanting to look at the marks of exhaustion any longer than necessary. Then again, maybe I should have left them uncovered; this dinner was of course to celebrate ‘the results of all my hard work’ as Lord Cochran had put it. In other words, the dinner was to celebrate Lord Cochran working me almost unconscious with fatigue every day for the past week in efforts to blow up the things he set in front of me (and not the ceiling beams).

      With my makeup completely applied, the dark shadows under my eyes were now mostly covered. I quickly brushed my hair out into frizzy waves down my back, and then pinned it back, out of my face. I grabbed the smoky gray dress off the cloak hanger above the wardrobe door. Vera had brought the pretty thing up upon Lord Cochran’s request; it was a ‘gift’ for me to wear to the dinner party.

      The organza was soft and floaty as it brushed against my hands. I pulled it over my head and the thick silk underneath rustled loudly in my ears. Goose-pimples prickled over my skin; I felt uncovered and bare in the in the strapless sweet-heart neck line dress. It would be the first time I’ve gone without straps any further than the dressing room. And I was seriously like one of the most flat chested beings on the planet—how the hell would the thing even stay up?!

      A soft gasp fell from my lips as I looked in the mirror. I was suddenly no longer worried about the lack of straps (okay, maybe still a little worried—I mean what would happen if it did fall down!). I looked almost beautiful in the dark gray dress. My freshly painted black fingernails even suited the dress somehow—without giving it a gothic or even slutty sort of look. The floaty material sat out like a fifties dress as it tightened artfully at my waist and then ended exactly at my knees. I did a little spin and smiled as it flew out around me. It was one awesome freaking dress.