Blue Eyes (bxb)

Thirty Seven

Georgie knocked sharply on my front door exactly thirteen minutes after I'd called her (not like I was counting or anything). I opened the entrance to see her stood in a tank top and leggings, a silver, glittery bag hanging between her fingertips. A wide smile was plastered on her lips, almost obnoxious-looking. How dare she feel so happy when I am tearing myself apart inside.

"Helloooo, big cuz'!" She said. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders briefly before she stepped inside.

"Hi. Um, c-can we go up to my r-room?" I stammered.

"Okay. Lead the way, Mister." And so I did, up the stairs and down the hallway, eventually collapsing on the floor of my bedroom.

"So, why am I here with a bag of makeup and a very stressed looking boy?" She asked, sitting on the creamy carpet opposite me.

"Uhh..." How on Earth was I going to phrase this? She didn't even know I was gay, so springing something like this on her would be like a punch in the face.

"Are you wanting to try it? I don't care if you do. In fact, it'll be exciting."

I nodded, silently. I must admit, I was ashamed of myself. Only faggots wear makeup, I thought. The guys on the football team (excluding Sam, Brendon and Jacob) would surely kick my arse in if they found out. They would probably make my life a living hell and then times that by a million. I shivered just thinking about it.

"Aw, Zak, that's really cool! What kind of look are you wanting? Warmer tones? Classical? Neutral?" She suggested. I found myself getting lost in the list, until an idea struck me.

"Glitter? Have you g-got any glitter?"

"FUCK YEAH! JEFFREE STAR SKIN FROST FOR DAYS!" Georgie squeaked.

"Okay, whatever that is. Just, I don't know, work your magic?"

The sixteen-year-old immediately began shuffling through the kit she brought along, huffing and puffing at her what I assumed was useless makeup collection. After a solid two minutes, she finally picked out a suitable shade of foundation (I think that's what it's called) and began smearing it across my face. "You're so lucky, you have legit no pores or spots. My face is just one giant crater, like the moon or some shit."

I giggled. Once she had finished up with the foundation she applied powder, followed by a few squirts of setting spray. "Yay! Now the fun part. What colour highlight?" I scrutinized the array of glitter shades. She had purple, green, pink, yellow, red; basically the entire fucking rainbow was alined in front of me. I took a moment to decide, but one colour did pop out to me.

"Blue?" I shrugged.

"I thought you might like that one." She picked up the creamy formula, and, with an oddly shaped sponge, started blending it across the top of my cheekbones. When she was satisfied with her work, Georgie used a dark pencil on my eyebrows, and a few cosmic-style eyeshadows on my lid. She finished off with winged eyeliner, mascara and lastly a shade of hot pink lipstick.

"Done!" She exclaimed, pulling out a mirror from her bag. I took it off her and held it to my face.

Oh. My. God. It was... fucking stunning. I couldn't help a smile break out on my cheeks. I knew I was hot, but, damn, this took it to another level. I wonder what Finn would think if he-

"Babe? You home?" Speak of the motherfucking devil. I stood up to greet my sort-of boyfriend at the door of my bedroom. I kissed him on the lips, long enough for him to notice the lipstick.

"Are you wearing makeup?" Finley gasped.

"Maybe?" I smirked.

"That's hot. Who did it?"