Cinders [Completed]

Chapter 35: Preparation

I've never worn makeup.

Dad wouldn't allow the stuff in the house. Even now, as a stranger finishes covering up the bruise on my cheek, I can't really believe that it's happening.

It feels like I'm breaking a rule.

It's a nice feeling.

Orion is hovering. I can't say I blame him. My bad luck has really shown through the past few days. He sits, unmoving, in a chair two feet from mine, watching everything with a sort of accusatory gaze. The makeup artist keeps glancing at him askance. The more I think about it, the more sense it makes that there are so many rumors about Orion and me.

But honestly, I kind of like it. It's nice to have him here.

I don't want to be away from him, after what happened with Mom. It has me strangely on edge. Somehow, Mom hitting me was worse than Dad - maybe I just never expected it from her.

The makeup is minimal, which is nice. The makeup artist simply covers the bruise and leaves the rest of me be. Still, I look into the mirror after he's left Orion and me alone, and I feel like I look so different from just moments before.

I turn to Orion, who has moved slightly closer to me.

"How does it look?" I ask.

"Good," he says softly. Warmth rushes to his face, and I marvel a little at how it shifts his skin. I must have let my amazement show, because Orion's brow furrows slightly. I realize that, despite how much I think of it, I haven't ever told Orion just how admirable he is.

"What is it?" he asks nervously.

"You're just - pretty," I say without thinking.

Orion raises his eyebrows.

The moment this is out of my mouth, I wish I could put it back. I press my hands to my burning cheeks, accidentally brushing against the bruise a little too hard. I wince.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yes," I say quickly, still trying to recover from my embarrassment. Pretty? Not even, like, handsome? I couldn't think of a slightly better word?

Luckily, Orion seems to be as flustered as I am. He leans forward, cupping my face and angling it so he can see the bruise better in the light. His face is still warm with an undercurrent of blush, hiding beneath his dark skin.

As he examines the cover-up - which I hope is still perfect after I touched my face so carelessly - his expression darkens. He says, in a monotone, "I assigned some guards to your mother."

"Orion, I promise, she's not really dangerous."

"I know," he says tightly, "They're just keeping an eye on her. They'll keep her from coming to see you, Lucy, and Jonah without your permission. Until we find some place for her to stay. I'm sorry. I should have asked you first."

I sigh. "No. That's probably for the best. Thank you."

He leans forward. His hands are still on my face.

I hear a small skip in his heartbeat.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask.

He exhales. He smiles a little at our little tradition, and when I smile back at him I can hear it again, a small acceleration of his pulse.

Am I - am I having that effect on him?

I lean forward. I press my hand to the center of Orion's chest, so I can feel his heart beating beneath my palm. Sure enough, it flutters at my touch.