A gentle melody rides into the cool air.

Sheer curtains flap against a steamy window. Blocking out the world.

She sits at her mirror with makeup sprawling out in front of her, her phone was playing music in the background.

She watches each curve, bump, line and colour of her face.

Water drips from her hair which is thrown into a bun.  The cool air melts it into her skin with a shine. The droplets that are hidden from the air trickle down the side of her face.

I have a wide face.

Grabbing her towel, she wipes the water away leaving her skin dry. With a click, she pops off the cap of a white bottle of moisturiser. The smooth texture slips across her fingertips and down into her palm. Her coated fingers run over the dehydrated bumps and her neck.

I look like the fucking Sahara.  

With a huff, she picks up a random piece of cardboard on the floor and begins to fan her face. The translucent white cream disappears under the hush of the fan.

I need to buy more of that.

She rubs in the last greasy bit of the cream.

She looks at her makeup.

She looks back up at herself in the mirror.

Should I? 

No, I look like a fucking mess, too pale. My eyes look so weird. My nose is fat just sort that out. Lips are also small their like paper thin.

She grabs her foundation, whilst eyeing up the rest of her products. Her fingers run along its velvet glass packaging. 

But I wanna let my skin breathe a bit and sometimes I look cakey or overdone. 

I will look bad without nothing on though.

She begins to unscrew its cap.

No. I will look the same as I normally look. 

She places her foundation down.  

But other people will see.

So? Who cares.

I do.

She stops and waits, looking at herself. The silence between the two reflections was deafening. She smiles. A sweet small smile just enough to lift her cheeks.

I do care.  

That smile didn't fade.

She puts most of her makeup back into her baby blue bag. She sighs a breath of relief.

She holds onto a small tub of lip balm and rolls the soothing coconut balm over her lips. 

She holds onto a tub of mascara. With a few flicks of the wand, it's done.

I don't look too bad.

She smiles, stands and disappears from the mirror.

Credit to beforehours

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