Tanner clicked his tongue, dropped the questions, and followed Tristan into the mall. They wandered through the bright aisles until they found a counter for a famous cosmetics brand.
Tristan pulled off his mask and asked the sales associate if there was any makeup that could cover his bruises. She was completely unfazed, just nodded and recommended a foundation and some concealer. She even offered to put it on for him, explaining each step as she went.
When she handed him the mirror, Tristan leaned in for a closer look. The foundation and concealer helped, but up close, you could still see the bruises peeking through.
His brows drew together, and irritation flickered across his face. “Do you have anything else?” he asked.
The sales associate gave a small, polite shake of her head. “No foundation can cover it completely. This is the best result.”
Tristan’s expression soured even more. The other employees hovered nearby, just out of reach, looking nervous, like they expected him to lose his temper at any second.
He stared at his reflection, obviously annoyed, but still told the associate to box up the foundation and concealer.
Back in the car, Tristan pulled out the makeup, grabbed the little sponge, and started dabbing at his face in the mirror, focusing on the bruises. He hadn’t done anything like this since those school plays way back in elementary, and even then it was just silly face paint. Now, for the first time ever, he was actually trying to do his own makeup. He tried to remember how Emily had done it, patting the foundation onto the bruised spots.
He looked so serious in the mirror, clutching that sponge, patting on layer after layer. It was almost funny, how determined he looked, like he was performing brain surgery instead of just dealing with some makeup.


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