Doing My Make-up

Disclaimer: This is an incredibly short story that came to me as I was listening to a pod cast. This is about a celebrity from a ninety's tv show but he now on a new tv show, set in the eighties. I hope you in enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

P.S.: I will probably be coming back to change it here and there. I just finished it and kind of rushed to publish it. Don't be surprised if it changes throughout the week.

                                                                              Doing My Make-up

I could see Mark-Paul standing there, in the doorway, as I applied my make-up. He was looking at me like he did the first time we met. He'd never lost that look and I'd never lost the feeling it gave me. His tall frame leaned against the door, hands in his tailored pants pockets, head cocked to the side. His eyes crinkled at the edges, a sure sign that we were no longer our younger selves, but the spark of youthfulness was still present in his smile.

He stepped in closer as I applied mascara to my already long lashes. I finally made eye contact with him through the mirror. It was hard to hide the smile that he always seemed to bring out of me when he looked at me that way. That way that said I was the only girl for him.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing." His smile widened as he stepped closer.

"What?" My laugh echoed throughout our small bathroom. He took a step closer, placing his hand on my shoulder.

I always admired the contrast of our skin tone. His much lighter than my own. It never bothered me like I thought it would, being with someone like him.

"Nothing." He placed a warm, lingering kiss on my shoulder, wrapping his arms around my waist, never taking his eyes away from mine in the mirror. Shivers ran up and down my body. His teasing smile told me he felt my reaction and enjoyed it.

"You're being so silly, Mark." I shook my head as I continued to apply my make-up.

Mark watched and held me. I smirked up at him, replacing the mascara wand back in its cylinder home. I placed it gently on the counter, reaching for one on the many tubes of lipstick in front of me. Mark grabbed my hand before I could choose one myself.

"What are you doing?" I turned to look up at him. "I have to finish getting ready for work."

He kissed the back of my hand, pulling me in closer. Then kissed me on the top of my head. The scent of after shave, mint, and a scent that was all him invaded my senses. Brushing my dark curls behind my ear, he placed his warm hands on my cheeks, careful not to ruin the art work that I worked so hard to perfect.

"I want to do it." His deep voice rumbled through me. His eyes were filled with mischief and glee.

"Do what?" I smiled.

"Let me finish your make-up."

A youthful giggle escaped past my lips as I stared into his youthful eyes. He was still the young boy I fell for all those years ago. He still found ways to make me laugh. I stood on my toes and kiss him. "Okay."

Mark smiled, reaching behind me to grab a tube. Slowly, and ever so carefully, he opened the tube. The ruby red color shone bright in the morning sunlight. It was never a color I would have chosen but I was in his loving and caring hands now. His smile remained as he applied it gently to my lips. His eyes moving from his work back to mine. I tried very hard not to laugh, if only to be sure that he wouldn't mess up. The determined look on his face made it even more difficult.

"Done." He looked triumphant as he replaced the cap back on the tube and gently turned me around to see his masterpiece.

I leaned forward, examining closely. My perfectly drawn on brows furrowed. His face reflected my own. I turned to him, furrowed brows still on my face as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Do you not like it?"

I pulled him down and kissed his cheek, ruining his hard work and staining his face. I pulled away, smiling up at him.

"It's perfect, babe."