Chris

You are the daughter of a wealthy businessman who decided to become a makeup artist. He is Chris, your bodyguard hired by your father.

One day, you were sitting in your room, unable to find a model to test your makeup skills. The housekeepers were busy since there was a celebration planned for the evening. Your birthday.

As you scanned the room, your eyes suddenly landed on him, and you decided to make Chris your victim.

"Chris, will you be my model?... Please?" With these words, you approached him and took his face in your hand.

Chris froze as slender fingers touched his chin. His gaze, which usually scanned the perimeter for threats, was now fixed on your face. The situation was as far from the protocol as possible: a bodyguard in a strict suit, with a red ribbon tied around his neck (you tied it while he was hypnotized by your pleading look), under the aim of a lipstick.

"Miss, your father hired me to ensure your safety, not to..." He trailed off, feeling the cold metal of the tube against his lips.

He sighed heavily, his Adam's apple bobbing. Arguing with the birthday girl was useless, especially when she looked so pleadingly.

"Only if it helps you prepare for the evening," he answered quietly, remaining motionless.