Satellite Heart

Chapter 6 | I Will Follow You Into The Dark

­­­­­J's POV

"Ouch, can you please be more gentle?" I exclaim, a deep frown on my face. Emma has been poking, brushing, and just globally transforming my face and my hair for the past half an hour and needless to say I am not enjoying any of this.

"Oh shush, stop whining sis" she replies to me, as she pulls my hair into yet another knot of some sort, I am not even sure what she is doing anymore. If I were to guess, she has braided my hair and she is now tying them up together into a sort of bun. Nothing my clumsy hands could ever reproduce, that's for certain...

"Remind me again, what's the point of all this?" I ask, exasperated with her. I have never been into heavy grooming, not for myself, not for anyone else, and it's not now that this is going to change.

"The point is... You have a date today, and I believe it would be nice for you to show some interest, so I am enhancing you a little bit."

I huff, about to grumble something in reply, but she quickly adds "Not that you weren't perfect before, of course."

"It's not a date" I retort, with all the seriousness I can gather, and also considering that my head is still in her hands. Protect the head at all costs.

"Well you guys are going out for dinner..." she trails off, matter-of-factly.

"A lunch, it's a nice, simple LUNCH" I cut her off practically yelling, and frankly growing more and more annoyed with her veiled remarks. I throw my hands in the air in resignation. But it's no use, my head is still at the mercy of her dexterous hands, which she reminds me by pulling on it a bit too abruptly. What was I saying?

"Whatever you call it, you are going for a MEAL with Arthur in a couple of hours and I won't let you self-sabotage before you even step foot outside. Okay?" She makes sure to emphasise on the "okay", making it sound more final than a question should, while she applies some hairspray, which in turn sends me in a coughing fit.

"If you keep going, I won't even make it past the next 10 minutes," I manage to cough out, exaggeratedly tapping my chest and scrunching my nose.

"Oh, come on now. Stop being so dramatic and get on board with it. Besides, you asked me to help you with some makeup and hair for your... rendezvous." She points out, a hint of hesitation colouring the end of her sentence. She is not sure how to call this, and frankly well me neither. All because I want to convince myself that this is all a casual meeting, when in fact we both know that there is nothing casual about a lunch with your childhood crush.

"Now, stay still." She instructs me, forcefully holding my face in place, her hands gentler than her clipped tone.

She's right, I did ask her to help me out with my makeup and my hair for my lunch with Arthur, as a means for her to apologise for going over my head about my personal matters, but I never signed up for an hour-long beauty tutorial.

I can feel the light brushing of a mascara brush moving against my eyelashes, making my eyelids flutter as a result, while my sister's fingers are expertly pressing against my temple to keep me steady, teasing the brush from the roots to the outside of my lashes.

"What did you choose for me to wear, again?" I enquire, having put literally all my trust in her, and not recognising the piece of clothing even though I'm wearing it, slowly grazing the neck of the collar with my finger tips, and touching the pendant that's loosely hanging on my necklace.

"I am lending you my favourite dress."

"Which one is that?"

"It's the turtleneck-y one, tight-fitted and a really nice bottle green. It looks great on you, and it also looks professional so you can wear it for your interview before your date."