A moment of genuine romance…

You apply the final touch with a brush – a bit of bronzer on the cheekbones. Lyokha winces, but endures it. “All for the sake of art,” you mumble, trying not to touch his eyelashes. You’ve been fiddling with this makeup for two hours now: first a clown, then trying to make a vampire, and now here’s something abstract, avant-garde.

He laughs, and his breath touches your face. You freeze. And indeed, your faces are now mere centimeters apart. You see every freckle on the bridge of his nose, every sparkle in his brown eyes. It’s strange how you didn’t notice it before.

The room becomes especially quiet, and you can only hear the measured ticking of the clock on the wall. You look at each other, and you feel your cheeks begin to burn.

And then he smiles, just a little, with the corner of his mouth. At that moment, you realize that you want to wipe off all that stupid makeup, just to touch his skin.

He leans forward, just a little. And you do too. It seems inevitable. It seems like this is what you've been subconsciously waiting for all this time...