Sherlock preferences

Writingmas - Day 22

Mycroft oneshot - too much makeup

You smiled into the reflective circle as you dragged the Crimson wand across your lips. Actually, it was more like a vermillion... No! A scarlet... Oh wait! A carmine!...

You had been staring at the bold lipstick for so long that the colour seemed to almost change. It danced and blurred before your eyes as you endeavoured to form the perfect kissable shape on your lips. The light in your bedroom was a warm creamy colour and every so often, it flickered in the mirror, catching in your eye like a warning signal refracting from an island lighthouse. After carefully placing your anonymous lipstick back onto the dresser, you picked up your highlight and inexpertly fluttered a dash of the shiny powder on your cheekbones. You grinned at yourself... They were sharp enough to draw blood. Suddenly, a deep knock on the door broke your silence
"Are you ready yet (y/n)? You've been in here for two hours. Are you okay?" Mycroft intruded tentatively as he pushed open the mahogany door, feeling the creak of the hinges vibrate through the handle into his wrists. You made a final check to your hair and turned around. Mycroft froze. Immediately, you grimaced and brought a self conscious hand up across your face, splaying your fingers to hide his view.
"You don't like it?" You gasped internally, trying to read his expression. Mycroft approached you, lovingly but quite clearly shaken. He placed his hands, initially, on your shoulders but they soon slid their way down to your waist.
"No, no, I think you look beautiful as always precious but... Are you wearing more makeup than usual?..."
His furrowed brow clearly signified that he was deducing you, his breathing slowed and his pupils expanded characteristically.
"Something happened?" Mycroft inquired, mutedly-worried as he sat you down of the bed. The springs beneath you made a faint whirring noise as they compressed.
"No, it was just a stupid thing..." You muttered into the floorboards, tears of shame pricking up behind your eyes. Mycroft sensed your awkward embarrassment and let you fall against his shoulder, still retaining a steely eye contact with the nails in the floor.
"Come on (y/n)... You can tell me" you inhaled deeply, preparing to vomit out your feelings, and began:
"At work yesterday, in your office, Athena came in to collect some files from the case we closed last week. As I retrieved them for her, she commented that I looked tired and run down... She said that I looked pale and that my mouth looked smaller than normal. I cooly informed her that I simply wasn't wearing makeup that day and she replied 'oh darling, some people just can't pull off the natural look'..."
You swallowed the ball if tears which had coagulated in your throat and continued shakily as Mycroft rubbed your spine.
"I know I shouldn't let things like that bother me. It's stupid. I know... But, I've been self conscious out my natural skin since I was a teenager... I would have thought that -being an adult- Athena would be above such insults... Apparently not." You let one, solitary tear run down the bridge of your nose. It trickled slowly, magnifying the tiny pores in your skin. Mycroft frowned, his professional mind ticking away behind philosophical eyes.
"I shall speak to Athena on Monday."
Mycroft stated, not breaking his contact with you for even a second.
"No, Mycroft, you don't have to do that! It was just a fleeting comment, you know how she is..."
Mycroft shook his head
"Precious, this woman has gotten inside your head, shamed you, driven you (wrongly) to apply too much makeup... Your natural beauty is the most stunning thing in the world to me! Please, don't change a single thing..."
He smiled sadly as he gently handed you a packet of make up remover wipes. You dragged the fabric across your mouth, wincing as you tasted the chemicals pass your tongue. As soon as your lips were clean, you planted them upon Mycroft's. You closed your eyes as you felt buzz of ethanol sting your mouth. You parted from Mycroft slowly, biting your lip as you blushed. His hand were on his own lap now, gentlemanly and refined in their position.
"Now... You just take as much time as you need to get ready... Start with a clean canvass and do what makes YOU comfortable. Not Athena."
You smiled compassionately, tilting your head to one side as you observed the encouraging twinkle in the back of his eyes brighten and engulf him.
"Thank you Mycroft... I will."