✶ SYNOPSIS. ‧࿔˖˚ Terry never spent the night at your place before you two got together. Rather, we went home and you slipped into bed alone. But now, on some evenings, he stays and Terry witnesses a whole new facet of you that he had never seen before.
✶ RELATIONSHIP. ‧࿔˖˚ Terry McCandless/AFAB | Assigned!Female!At!Birth!Reader.
✶ GENRE & THEMES. ‧࿔˖˚ Newly Established Relationship, Some Domesticity, Night Routine, Terry Does Not Know Shit About Makeup & Skincare. Ageless and blank blogs don't interact with my work or you'll be blocked.
✶ WORDS. ‧࿔˖˚ 1,188k.
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Before you two got together, after long months of dating and sleeping around in between working hours, Terry never stayed the night at your house. He would often drag his stay until you told him to go, trying to kiss you into agreeing to him spending the night with you. Yet he never once slipped under the covers of your bed, and never once woke to the sight of you brewing your coffee with your morning hair.
Terry often thought you would look the most pretty after you rose from bed, sleep still clinging to your skin, with the rays of the dawn shining down on you. But he was wrong. Yes, you were lovely in the morning, and yet Terry found out that the hour of the day you were the most gorgeous was when the sun went down.
You were sitting at your vanity, the amber glow of the old lamp near you casting shadows over you. Terry was looking at you from the bed, with his elbows on his knee, holding his beer. He had followed you from the living room, although he did not remember if you two were talking or if he had merely been so enraptured in the sight of you that he had walked behind you to the bedroom. Now, he was lurking in the dimly lit room, eyes onto you. You did not mind, though. That much he knew.
No, Terry had been simply entranced by the way you peeled away the daylight you to unveil the nightly you. He was not living with you yet, so this was something he did not witness every day. But how he delighted in watching you shed that skin. It was truly bewitching.
From you taking your hairbrush to untangle the knots from your head, to you picking some cotton pad to apply a good few drops of whatever that thing was. Um, something water? You had told him once or twice, when he asked you. Anyways. You wiped at your skin, from your brows to your chin, cleansing away the sweat of the day and the blush you wore. Terry wondered how good it felt when he heard you sighing once everything was off.
Then, you rose from your seat and walked away to the bathroom. It took everything in him not to follow you again, for fear of looking like a stray puppy. Instead, he waited for you, listening to the water running down the hallway while playing his fingers against his beer. He knew you were washing your face, scrubbing away any remains of the day. He may not have followed you today, but he had before, and without even seeing you, Terry also knew you were now rubbing something foaming with that scent he liked.
You stepped back into the bedroom once you dried your face with that towel that was only yours. Sitting back down, Terry’s eyes floated to your hands as you took another cotton pad and that thing you had told him was for hydrating your skin. Something about regeneration. Whatever the name, he took a quick swing of his beer while you applied it to your face, going in soft loops about your cheekbones and your forehead.
Terry did not truly understood why you needed those things, seeing as you were so ravishing without any foundation or gloss. From your hair to your nose to your chin, you were the most glorious woman he had ever laid his poor eyes on.
What you grabbed from the vanity then, Terry knew it. It was a serum, looking like a thick potion in a glass bottle. And maybe the most silly of everything. When he had asked you about it, wondering what it was for, you had told him it was for wrinkles. He had chuckled, querying if you were serious, but you pointed your finger under your eye. To a wrinkle. A tiny, almost too faint to be seen wrinkle. Terry had rolled his eyes back so far to the ceiling that day he nearly missed your pout.
Wrinkle or not, you were gorgeous. But you kind of feared them. He thought you should rather embrace them. But, as he had told you that evening, you did as you wanted. And if you wanted him to buy more of that serum, he would. Terry simply liked everything about you.
Once that serum was deep into your skin, you took the cream lying beside the lamp. That one he also knew. It was for protection. You unscrewed the lid and he followed your fingers as they plunged into the pot, taking a chunk of it. Both of your hands then flew to your still glowing face to smear the cream along your cheeks, down to your jaw and over the slope of your nose.
Make no mistake, Terry adored you with highlighter on your cheekbones and glitters on your eyelids, for it only made your beauty even more bright, but he would be lying if he said he did not love to see that other you. The one with glowy skin and brushed down hair. Even the faint, dark shadows under your eyes enhanced your traits in a way that made Terry’s heart swell.
“Terry?”
He blinked and saw you looking at him through the mirror of your vanity, “What d’you said, sugar?”
“I was asking you if you wanted to go to bed now,” you rubbed the remaining of the cream down your throat, and for a second Terry’s mind wandered, thinking about how he would like to kiss along your now smooth skin.
“Yeah,” he nodded, before looking at his beer in his hand. He took the last swing of it, swallowing the last of the warm liquid in one gulp. Then he rose from the bed, walking to you, “If you’re done, we can go to bed.”
“Don’t do like you don’t like watching me,” you grinned, a teasing glint sparkling in your eyes.
Terry’s hands came to stroke your hair, tilting your head to him. He leaned down, smirking with no shame, “Oh, I like it, sweetheart. I think I’d like to watch you do about anything.”
His mouth laid a warm kiss on your forehead, slightly moist from the beer on his lips. You chuckled, your glance catching his own, “Yeah, I know. Now, go wash your teeth before I fall asleep with you.”
If Terry had known, a few months back, that many evenings would be like this, with him being blessed with the sight of you going around the house and performing your ritual in front of him— only for him, he would have asked you to be his girl the day he saw you. Now, he did not know if could go about a day without seeing you sitting in front of your vanity.
He was one lucky bastard. And soon, he would be awakening in the very same house as you every morning. His mouth spread into a smile, both smug and proud. Lucky, lucky him.
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