imagine

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"Beau," I stifle a laugh, only adding to his displeased expression, "Quit moving."

I try to be as careful as possible when applying the moisturizing face mask to his forehead. He was cooperative at first, but then he started getting squirmy and now he wants to snack on something. He lathered the product on my face no problem, I however do not get the same courtesy. "The shit you're putting on my face is slimy and cold," he whines for the millionth time.

"Relax," I smile, "Trust me, your skin is going to feel like heaven after this."

Letting out a grumble, he braces his hands on my hips and pulls me closer to him. I have him sitting on the counter so I wouldn't have to reach up to the damn sky to get to his face. With his knees pushing into the sides of my legs, he makes certain that I don't move out of place. "What are you trying to say?" An accusing note in his voice makes me glare at him, consequently flicking him between his brows.

"It helps prevent wrinkles too," I jokingly sigh, pretending to be caught up in concentration, "Judging by all the frowning you do, you'll be thanking me a lot later."

The first instinct of his is to frown at my snide remark, but because of the nature of it, he sticks his tongue out instead. Seriously, the majority of the time I am dealing with a child. "God you are on a roll today, did I do something to you?" Beau claps his hand over his chest defensively.

Once I feel satisfied with the product really getting into his skin, I take the face towel I soaked in lukewarm before Beau decided to linger around as I was doing my skincare routine. Hey, it's his fault for being so nosey. I lift the damp towel to his face and pat off the excess product. Since he's already complaining about it, otherwise I would have let it soak in there a bit longer.

But alas, he's right, his skin is clear as fuck. Before I practically started living with him, he only did the bare minimum of washing his face, that is until I brought in a whole bunch of skin care products because unlike him simply washing my face won't work.

"No," I hum. To get his hair out of his face, I grabbed one of my small claw clips to hold the top of it back. When I let it loose, his messy strands fell right on to his forehead. "Your hair's gotten long," I remark, more so to myself.

Yet, he's so close that he hears me. "I thought you liked it that way." My eyes lift up at the sound of his cocky response. Sure enough, there's a snarky grin painted across his glistening lips.

"Beau," I laugh nervously, possibly a bit of apprehension in my tone. In our time together, I'd gotten so used to his suggestive remarks that I expected one to pop up in almost every conversation we had. Of course, that habit had to change once he got back from London, but over the course of the last two weeks, I'd say we've gotten more comfortable with the thought of potentially...I don't know...trying something more? We're a long way away from being where we once were, any yeah, the suggestive comment caught me off guard for just a split second. But I didn't particularly hate it.

I don't know, maybe there isn't a right time to take on these things. I mean, there's definitely a right mindset we both have to be in in order for things to go smoothly, but I don't think there's ever going to be a way for us to plan how far we go or when. We just do it. With communication beforehand obviously. Lots of it.

He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, keeping it from obstructing his view of my face. "What?" he grins. My skin heats up, showing off a pink tint.

I giggle softly, overcome with even more shyness the longer I feel his gaze on me. "It's the perfect length," I bite my tender lip.

His name tumbles out of my mouth precariously when his hand grips my hip ever so slightly. It's his subtle touch that has my mind filled with the things I want to explore, all the bits and pieces of us I want to tap into again, feel again. I want to try a do-over, but only with him.

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