"It's just so unfair," Azy murmured behind my back as the stylist straightened my hair.

I looked at him and raised an eyebrow from the reflection of the mirror.

"When we're stressed, our faces look ugly. But if it is as beautiful as you, just with a smear of foundation, boom! You are a goddess again," he stated.

I just rolled my eyes and ignored him. This will be one of those days where he will just notice and criticize my every action.

"Are you okay?" he inquired, there was concern and seriousness in his tone as he stared at me from the mirror.

I forced a smile. Am I okay?

"Yeah," I sparingly answered.

It's been two weeks since that argument.

He didn't seem to believe it, but he never tried to ask for more.

"Ahmm. Will he...pick you up?" he asked afterward.

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