@wilderviolets !
IT DOESN’T HELP their case that some may think that thea and arlo are sleeping together. to be fair, they sometimes are— but it’s sleeping, and that’s it. okay, he’s seen her naked, too. and now they’re both in the women’s bathroom at eleutherios and thea’s adding just a touch of makeup to his face because arlo has never been one to say no to much of anything. he’s sitting on the counter, donned in a white sleeveless blouse he found at the bed and breakfast, along with a pair of white jeans that he actually owned and white sneakers. his hair’s left curly and a bit unruly but it seems to be working in his favor tonight, which surely must be a blessing from the gods. and speaking of gods, arlo’s dressed as an angel, with his fake feathered wings hanging from two straps on his shoulders.
“what is this you’re applying?” arlo asks as he opens one eye to look at the product in her hand. she’s already used a bit of powder on his face, supposedly to help sweat or something, and now she’s got a lighter, glittery container of powder between delicate fingers. he runs a hand through his hair as he stares down at it. “where does that go?”
as open-minded as arlo rouselle is, he’s pretty clueless when it comes to makeup. he closes his eyes, unsure if he even needs to but it feels right nonetheless. “i wanna look good, thea.” and there it is: it’s not often that arlo’s vulnerable and honest, much less is he outwardly insecure. and he’s not about to go into it— he’s not about to say that his heart has been aching in secrecy for much too long and he’s kind of dying to talk about it, as if it’ll clear of itself if arlo releases the words out into the world to live elsewhere. he cocks his head to the side, reaches his feet out as his legs dangle from the side of the counter and he wraps them around thea’s waist. he grins. “make me look good. please.”