#dalesha

It was a bright, brilliant day in Birmingham. Just over 9 degrees, clear, and all things considered, beautiful. Auditions had already kicked off to a great start with absolutely no snags, except-

“Alesha, we have a slight emergency.”

The voice came from behind her, just in time to catch the singer at her mirror, touching up a rosy blush over her cheeks. She looked up, eyebrows arched to David’s shadow that had appeared at her back. He continued, flapping the leather gloves he had only just removed:

“So, apparently, I’ve lost my lipgloss. My Giorgio Armani Ecstasy Lacquer lip gloss in copper nude.” David took a deep breath, composing himself. “I need to borrow one of yours. What’ve you got?”

Alesha blinked, stifling a laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am completely serious,” he frowned, brows digging deep. David leaned in, holding eye contact with her through the mirror. “Alesha, this is nothing short of a crisis.”

“Well, you can’t use one of mine. It wouldn’t match your complexion, darling.” She twisted around in his seat to squeeze his chin, sympathetically, as one would a child.

Indignantly frowning to her, he simpered. “Are you calling me pale? What’re you wearing now?”

“You can’t use it, David,” she warned, again.

“Does it taste alright? Is it one of those with those with a scent, or not?” David was leaning closer now, corner of his lips turning upwards into a half smile.

Alesha caught on, pulling away from him with the beginning of a laugh, and a stern finger in his face. “This is the last time I’m going to tell you.”

“Well, you haven’t answered any of my questions, Alesha,” he pouted, over the back of her chair now. “I’ll just have to try it for myself.”

“David!” Alesha screeched before her giggles were captured in a kiss, quick and curved by both of their smiles. The moment lingered, just for a moment, where laughter nearly diffused, lapsing into something more-- but it didn’t. 

“Mmm,” he pulled back, just enough to speak. “Tastes like honey. Or is that just you?”

Alesha scraped acrylic nails gently over his cheekbone, a tender thing, trying to hide a smile. “You’re an incredibly smutty man, did you know?”

“I know,” he grinned, still only inches away. Close enough to still feel the spark they were kindling between them, close enough that their noses nearly touched.

“But it just doesn’t work, love. You’re too fair, the color isn’t right on you,” she didn’t stop stroking, eyes bright in amusement as another pout crossed his face. “Have you tried your little trick on Amanda, yet?”

With a feigned gasp of shock, he frowned. “That would be contamination, Alesha! I can’t possibly mix colors, now! There’s only one thing to do.”

“And what’s that?” she laughed, urging him closer with a hook of her finger under his chin.