Safer This Way

Chapter 38

Geez it's been nearly 2 months since I've updated this story. Good news at least is that I went back and read the whole thing again, because I felt detached from this story and now I having thinkings and imaginings again :) So thank you for being patient and...Happy Reading!

*Sang*

Cat eyes? No, thank you.

Highlighter...Isn't that for textbooks?

What the heck are feathered brows? Why is there so much glitter...on everything? Don't even get me started on contouring. If I wanted to paint every inch of my face, I'd rather run away and join the circus.

I should never have trusted the internet to help me with this. I'm even more confused than when I started this whole mess and I'm considerably concerned about the amount of makeup it takes to achieve a "natural" look.

I click on another video that claims to demonstrate a "simple date night look anyone can do" and immediately start to give in to the panic when the girl pulls out six different brushes and a weapon of torture she claims curls eyelashes. I'm intimidated and embarrassed again that I don't know what any of this is or does, because if I can't even do this right, how will I be able to make it through my first date and not let on that I'm a total failure of a female?

My eyes start to water and my lower lip trembles right before there's a knock at me door and Phil pokes his head inside.

"Little Bird, how's it going in he–" His eyes widen when they see me staring at my computer about to cry. "Sang, what's wrong?" It's the final straw and the dam of my emotions bursts.

"I'm failing at being a girl!" I practically wail before the tears start falling in earnest.

Later, I'll probably be impressed that he didn't turn tail and run from the room right that second, that he didn't even bat an eye at my outburst. Instead, he came over and wrapped me up in the best hug ever, letting me cry it out all over his nice clean shirt without a single complaint.

When I start to calm down, Phil takes his phone and types out a few quick messages, to who I'm not sure, before folding his arms back around me. I don't think that anyone has ever held me like this in my entire life. Save for the guys, no one had ever hugged me at all. I think the most affection I had ever received before them was a pat on the shoulder from my sister back when she still loved me.
We stay like that for a long while, even after my tears have ebbed and rational thought has resumed. I probably could have let him hold me forever, but the loud echo of the front door slamming open downstairs, followed by a beautifully familiar and equally loud voice breaks my affection receiving trance.

Turning to Phil with a smile on my face, I raise an eyebrow. "You texted Gabriel?" I ask him and if I'm not mistaken, he flushes slightly.

"What can I say? I needed backup. I don't know what all this girly stuff is, let alone how to use it so I called in reinforcements."

If I wasn't so busy being grateful for his thoughtfulness, I would probably start giggling at the thought of needing reinforcements for makeup application. Even distracted, my brain still conjures up an image of the guys clad in bedazzled armor, charging in to defend my honor wielding makeup brushes and bath bombs as weapons, all with my Meanie leading the charge.

Just before I give into the silliness, Gabriel materializes in the doorway with a rolling case, looking completely ruffled and breathing hard as if he ran all the way here. It's unusual for me to see him with a single hair or article of clothing not perfectly styled in his own unique way like it is now. In his own way, Gabriel exudes the same aura of perfection that Owen does. I probably shouldn't tell him that though, since he's always complaining about "Mr. Perfect" having such a "stick up his ass." His words, not mine.