Romans & histoires Dear Me Lip Gloss

Just one thing is missing to top up everything! I reach for my clear strawberry lip gloss and apply it to my full lips, making them more moist and a bit shiny—just a bit—because I don't like too much make-up. I turn to the mirror again, and this time, I am confidently satisfied with my look. I breathe out a sigh and grab the red purse from my bed. A cat is walking my way out of the house.

I flashed one last smile his way before I dug into the food. It tasted amazing. "I like your new lip gloss, by the way." He said, biting his lower lip. I let out a soft chuckle, "Of course you'd notice I changed my lip gloss." "Yeah, there's this fine hint of coconut and-" "Because it's coconut flavored." I told him, laughing softly. "Oh." He smiled. "Wear it more often, I like it." "Aye, aye, captain." I told him, eating from my food. "I read on TikTok that lip gloss is made from whale sperm."

The dress was clearly expensive and showed how much effort he had put into this fake date. After Mel had put on her jewelry, she opened her purse on the dressing table and took out a tube of lip gloss. It was one of her favorites, one of the many, she had picked up from the post office a few weeks ago. She applied a generous amount to her lips, making them shimmer in the light.

There goes my lip gloss. ✺ ✺ ✺ ✺ ✺ ✺ ✺ ✺ ✺

The soft kiss then escalated fast to becoming a hot deep kiss. 'What am I doing with a woman I've only known for three days?!'

And the lipstick, matte, specifically matte, chosen over every gloss option in the case for a reason I have not said aloud to anyone in this room. There will be a kiss. In front of hundreds of people, at some point during the ceremony, there will be a brief and public and entirely performative kiss, and I am, in every meaningful romantic sense, still entirely a virgin in that department, and the thought of leaving a gloss print on Dorian Valenti's mouth in front of two hundred witnesses is the specific form of mortification that kept me awake until two in the morning on Thursday. Matte leaves nothing. Matte is practical. Matte is the choice of someone who has thought this through.

My hands hovered over the amber tincture, the silk, the small salves - all of it foreign, terrifying, and yet a strange comfort. I sat. For a long moment, I simply breathed. The collar tugged faintly when I lowered my head, the tag tapping my throat with each inhale. I lifted the smallest jar from the box - a thin, pearly salve that smelled faintly of mint and crushed leaves. The Luna had said nothing about its purpose, but my skin knew its touch instantly: cooling, numbing, merciful. I slipped out of the robe and folded it carefully across the bed. My fingers trembled as they trailed down the faint bruises and welts that had not fully faded despite the healer’s earlier work. I dipped two fi

“Nice save, but everyone knows you’re just a girl who got lucky. Next time, I won’t be so generous.” Kayla waited until the room was empty before slumping in her chair, tears finally pricking at her eyes. She’d fought so hard, pushed through the embarrassment and the fear, and all she’d gotten was a public dressing down. It wasn’t fair. She stayed there for a few minutes, gathering herself enough to stand and head back to her office. When she opened the door, she froze. On her desk, next to her computer monitor, sat a large silver box tied with a deep purple ribbon. She walked over and lifted the lid to find it filled with her favorite chocolates—imported from Belgium, the kind she’d mention

he asks, catching my attention. I knew he wanted me to hurry up and I didn't want to be an annoying little high schoolgirl so I complied without question. "Fifteen more minutes, I swear." I plead He nods his head at me in response as I grab my clothes before bringing them back into the bathroom with me. I quickly take out my foundation and apply a thin layer before contouring my face. I then take my dolcé k matte lip gloss by Kylie Jenner and apply it to my lips. My lips smack together, spreading the gloss as I add mascara to my eyelashes before applying eyeliner to my top eyelid. I then pull my hair into a high ponytail before smoothing down my baby hair to give myself a more clean look.

“I do. But love isn’t blind, Damien. It sees everything and still stays.” His smile faltered for a second, as if my words cut deeper than I intended. “Then stay,” he said softly. “Stay with me, even if it’s dangerous.” “Always.” He leaned in, and before I could think, his lips met mine. The kiss was gentle and cautious to start with, however it escalated fast, and it turned to something desperate, something that erased the boundaries between necessity and submission. Each contact, each inhalation was laden with the charge of the energy that still existed between us, a current with which neither of us was able to exercise any control.