Page 10 of Confused AF
He had wanted to purchase clothes for the entire week. I’d suggested he just needed a single outfit. In the end, we had compromised, and he’d left the mall with enough clothes to get him through the next two days. Even that had taken nearly two hours and four different stores, but the results had been well worth the effort.
The black chinos hugged him like an old friend, while the sage green V-neck complemented his complexion and highlightedthe gold in his eyes. He appeared professional without being stuffy, and most importantly, the ensemble made him look approachable.
“So, how does this work?” I asked, now that I had his attention. “Do you just do whatever makeup people want?”
Folding his arms across his chest, he slumped back in the chair with a disgusted snort. “I don’tdomakeup.”
I bit down on the side of my tongue to stop my smile from spreading. He really couldn’t help himself. Even when he could barely think straight, he loved to correct me, especially when it came to his craft.
It should have annoyed me, but on the contrary, I found it…cute.
“But yes,” he continued. “Technically, I am planning to offer consultations, where potential clients can choose the look they want.”
“And that’s it?” I knew it wasn’t, but I wanted to keep him talking.
“No. I will also be doing demonstrations and tutorials.”
“What’s the difference?”
He began his explanation, waving his hands in wide, sweeping motions as he talked about techniques and other things that made no sense to me. Still, the question had served its purpose, and while I had him distracted, I reached into my pocket for my phone and opened the music app.
Once I had the playlist queued up, I retrieved a pair of earbuds from the other pocket and checked their connection. Satisfied I had everything in working order, I crouched in front of him just as he finished telling me about color theory.
“What are you doing?” He leaned back, batting at my hands as I reached toward his ears.
Gods, he was fucking adorable.
“Be still.” I caught him with my tail, wrapping the end around his wrist and holding him in place as I inserted the pods into his ears. “Try to relax.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes wide and a little dazed, but he didn’t try to pull away or remove his arm from my grasp.
Normally, I found him easy to read, but this time, I had no idea what was going on inside his head. He seemed agreeable, though, and I detected no anxiety in his scent. Just that sweet, smoky fragrance that I found so enticing.
Unable to stop myself, I leaned closer, breathing him in as I pressed a hand to the side of his face. “Close your eyes for a little while and try to clear your mind. I’ll be right back, okay?”
When he gave another nod of acceptance, I started the music, a collection of mellow jazz, and stroked his cheek before pulling my hand away.
It had started innocently enough, with nothing more than a desire to ease his frazzled nerves. I rather enjoyed touching him this way, though, and I had to admit that his reaction eased an ache in my chest I’d been feeling since that day at the cafe.
I waited until he had settled back in the chair and closed his eyes before pushing to my feet. Then I lingered for a moment longer, just watching him, before forcing myself to turn and walk away.
Otto had been awake since five o’clock that morning to start preparing for the day. Even with limited options, he had still spiraled over what to wear. He had practiced his smile in the mirror for a solid ten minutes. There had been an entire meltdown over the fact that his personal makeup had been in his lost suitcase.
In his mind, a makeup artist should arrive at a makeup event in full war paint, and honestly, I kind of saw his point. His facewasthe marketing. It had taken some coaxing, but eventually, he had accepted that arriving unmasked might work in his favor,giving him a fresh canvas for tutorials or whatever he called them.
In fact, the only thing missing from his morning spiral had been food. He had skipped breakfast, claiming to be too nervous to eat, and while I got it, that didn’t mean I approved. Since arriving in Las Vegas, he had been running mainly on adrenaline and anxiety, but he couldn’t keep it up forever.
Sooner or later, he had to come down, and while I couldn’t stop the crash completely, maybe I could mitigate it.
Thankfully, the convention center offered a variety of options, from pizza slices to artisan bakeries. I joined the line at the deli.
Fifteen minutes later, I headed back to the table with a respectable turkey club sandwich—no onions—a bag of kettle chips, and a bottle of water. On impulse, I had also picked up a small carton of strawberry milk. He had mentioned his liking for it in passing the previous day, and I figured it would be an easy way to get some calories into him, even if he refused the sandwich.
Weaving my way through the rows and dodging influencers, I slowed as I neared Otto’s table. I had hoped to find him in the chair where I’d left him. The more practical part of me, however, had accepted that he’d probably started rearranging his brushes the moment I’d walked away.
Instead, I found him standing in front of the table, engaged in conversation with a young female. Petite, almost dainty, with blonde ringlets and elongated ears, I would have pegged her for a faery, even without the gossamer wings that protruded from her back.
Though they both wore pleasant smiles, something about their body language seemed…off. Otto held himself rigidly, his shoulders pulled toward his ears and his hands fisted at his sides. The faery, on the other hand, appeared far more comfortable taking up space, and not just her own.
