He hadn’t realised that she had woken up. And perhaps he would have felt a bit of embarrassment at being caught at carrying out such a self-indulgent expression of ego if he had been any less of a man and had his mantra been any less true – he absolutely knew exactly how radiant he was, and although he did not particularly need Narcissa’s opinion on the matter, it still made him shine perhaps a bit more than he normally would to hear that his wife was appreciative of his lustrousness. He could not imagine life with a wife who was not willing to indulge him his narcissism.
“Aright,” Lucius agreed, indulging her as she had him, finishing his brushstroke before standing away from the mirror. He was naked, but he was unashamed in his nudity as he moved to sit on the bed within her reach – it was not exactly proper to remain in such a state of undress when in the presence of another, especially his wife, but he knew her to still be equally as naked under the blankets, and if they were to be indecent, let them both be. He handed her the brush – “I won’t fault you if you fail to remove every tangle,” he told her, his hair having been worked into quite a state the night before, “but try not to tug.”