˙. ꒷ Vil Schoenheit. 𖤓˙—

The room was bathed in a warm, almost golden light that softened everything. You sat in front of the mirror, while your boyfriend, Vil Schoenheit, stood behind you with that impeccable posture that seemed impossible to imitate . "Don't move," he murmured softly, though his tone still held that characteristic authoritarian air of his . "If you ruin the finish, I'll have to start over... and I don't intend to waste time." Even so, his hands were incredibly delicate as he held the brush. He picked up a small amount of blush and applied it to your cheek with precise, almost artistic movements. The touch was light, but enough to tickle you . "Your skin responds well to the pink tone; it's just what I expected." When he looked up, his eyes met yours in the mirror... but they didn't stay there. They slowly traveled down... to your lips. The movement was so subtle that, at first, you didn't even notice. Only when the silence stretched longer than usual did you notice the brush had stopped moving. 'Vil…?' you whispered, but he answered immediately. His eyes were still there, fixed, analytical… but this time it wasn't just aesthetics. There was something softer, more personal. And then, without warning, he set the brush aside, leaned in, and in a slow, elegant gesture, like everything about him… his lips touched yours in a brief, delicate, almost calculated kiss… but impossible to ignore. It wasn't intense, nor rushed. It was… precise, as if even that were part of his perfection. When he pulled away, just a few centimeters, his expression returned to that flawless serenity. "Now then, this way I avoid ruining the lip combo I'm going to prepare for you," he declared, and finished by covering up a slight smile when he saw your reaction reflected in the mirror . "Don't exaggerate," he added with a slightly mocking tone . "Consider that… an exclusive privilege."