An Aiding Shadow [2]

(Malory)

As I seat him on the leather couch of the living room, his face lit by the bright light above, I concentrate on my project. “I need to clip your hair away from your face so I can get the makeup everywhere it needs to be,” I tell him, digging through my kit for some clips.

“I can’t remember the last time my hair was out of my face –in front of anyone,” he says. “Usually the only time it’s hidden away is when I’m swimming.”

I find some black clips and raise them for him to see. I smile toothily and he rolls his eyes. I carry my hands towards his face... but I don’t know why I feel as though if I touch him he’ll explode.

“Um... It’s okay if I touch your face, right?” I ask.

“Go ahead,” he says, unbothered. “Unless you’re going to hurt me. My face stings. If you’re not going to be careful then just forget it.”

I push the hair from the right side of his face upwards and clip it away. I do the same for the left side –with careful consideration of the bruise. I study the marks. They seem to be different –worse- every time I see them. I wince, feeling awful.

He forces a smile that slightly stretches his swollen lips. “I know... it’s... I know.”

I search my makeup kit for a concealer and squeeze some onto my finger. I near it to his face. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

I apply it generously, smoothing it over his skin and being extra careful around the bruised areas.

At some point during the makeup process, I realise how close my face is to Kyle’s. He’s staring at me, and I’m focusing on his face, completely aware of his gaze and refusing to look into his eyes.

I back away and take his slightly-trembling hand. It’s warm... and it stops shaking when I touch it. I stare at his fingertips and how they tremble for a moment. I realise that Kyle might notice that I’m observing these things, so I move my fingers upward to hold his wrist. I spray some foundation to match it with his skin tone. I can feel Kyle’s eyes on me as I struggle to focus on the task. I dig through my cosmetic products again to find another foundation that might be more suited for his skin.

I glance at Kyle for literally a nanosecond and realise that he’s wearing a small smile -a genuine one. I immediately focus my eyes back on his wrist and spray the next foundation.

“How do you girls even find the time to learn all of this? Especially girls like you.”

Girls like me?

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not a baboon,” I assure him.

He scoffs. “You aren’t?”

I turn to him pointedly. “You’re lucky I’d feel guilty if I slap you right now.” I go back to the foundation matching.

“What I mean is you’re... a very busy person. You do a lot of extracurricular activities. Plus, you top your class, you lead groups, you’re probably going to be valedictorian for our graduation ceremony next year, too.”

That’s funny, but I’m still tying at first place in class with Daniel Holden. He’s been trying to steal my spot.

“If Holden doesn’t give me a run for it, that is,” I say. “What’s your point?”

“I thought,” he hesitates, “I guess I just thought that because you’re so active in all these groups and extra activities... that you never really had time... you know... for yourself.” I pause, understanding him. “That’s all.” he finishes.

I never thought he’d say something like that. A part of me always knew there was more to him than meets the eye, but I always try to ignore that. Something tells me it’s going to get increasingly harder to ignore that voice in my head the more I interact with Kyle.

I look down into my makeup kit and find a cotton swab, picking it up and dipping it into the foundation –which matches his skin better than the first one.

“Maybe you and I just... never really thought of each other as people.”

“Maybe,” he agrees.

I carry the foundation-soaked cotton swab to his face. “I’ll be as gentle as possible. I promise.” I start applying it to his face. To stop myself from looking at him and thinking about our closeness, I try to speak to stay on a general topic. “The concealer will do a good job of hiding the marks. The foundation will make it look like nothing happened. Then I’ll put some powder and make you look a little less like the undead. You should be good to go after that.”

“All of this just to pass the guard?” He asks.

“You do know where the medical centre is, right?” I ask him. “It’s a little way from here. We’ll need to take a taxi. A lot more people are going to see you than just him. Close your eyes.”

He shuts his eyes as I continue to apply the makeup.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but... I’m starting to see some of that actual brain of yours at work,” he says.

Stupid.

“Did something happen to your arm, too?” I ask, worried.

“No, why?”

I hit him.

He cries out, startled.

I smirk.

A comfortable silence falls between us. I add powder and then some colour to his face to make him look a little less like a ghost, but not pretty enough to look like he actually has makeup on.

“When we get to the doctor’s office, you’ll have to remove all this because you’re actually going to get this checked out and we’re getting you some medicine for it.”

“What about when I have to come back to the compound?”

“We’ll figure it out. Depending on if the doctor puts medicine on your face or not, I’ll know if to redo the makeup or if we’ll have to get some other kind of disguise.” I finish the makeup. “Okay, look at me.”

He fixes his bewildering cognac eyes on mine and I study his face. I try not to feel intimidated by him as he watches me. I try to focus. I can feel myself failing.

This is Kyle Davidson. I keep reminding myself. Whatever other thoughts you’re thinking about him, cease immediately.

“Are you finally done?”

“Finally.” I fix all my supplies back into my kit and I stand. “Oookay let’s get movin-”

-He grabs my hand. Startled, I turn slightly to look down at him. He’s focuses his eyes on lamp resting on a desk near the opposite end of the room, his blank expression going soft. He doesn’t look at me at all as he whispers.

“Thanks.”

I turn away, surprised. I gently squeeze his hand. “No problem...” I clear my throat. “Now let’s go. I won’t have you sweating my makeup into a face cake. Not today, not ever.”