Thread: Lipstick and Nail Polish (Whisper Twice & AnnaBeth Belle)

Holding hands with the woman, with Jason, was not exactly comforting but it was contact. Where Jason's hand would have completely covered hers so perfectly, so rightly, the new Jason's hand was not that much bigger than her own, though still big. It was softer too, really soft. Softer, Stacy realized, than her own. There was no rough skin anywhere but she didn't feel the greasy residue of any lotion not that Jason ever used it much. His hands were always a little rough, just enough so that it felt good and said that he was a man. But new Jason's hands were like a baby's, not even a hint of use on them. In fact, Stacy looked up and into the woman's eyes, trying hard not to flinch away from them because they still looked like him there, in fact the new Jason didn't even have a single blemish, not one, on his skin of his face. Everyone had blemishes, that's why foundation and concealer existed, but there certainly wasn't any makeup in the apartment and no way was Jason wearing any. You could see it was bare skin, super fine pored bare skin which made Stacy incredibly stupidly jealous all of a sudden. She let go of the hand and stood up. Sure. Jason is really good at finding stuff on the internet. I mean is. You are. You're good at, I'll make breakfast,' Stacy veered off that line of talk quickly and with one more puzzled, almost mad look at Jason's face, went into the kitchen. Habit drove Stacy's selection. For Jason, almost half a pound of bacon. He'd taught Stacy that if she rinsed it under cold water first then cooked it it didn't curl up as much. He also taught her to fry his eggs in the grease, and use the spatula to flip the hot grease onto the top of them while they cooked, making them look a little pink instead of yellow and so that she didn't have to flip them. Once she looked out and her heart almost broke. The woman sat just like Jason, legs spread wide and bent over at the couch to reach the laptop on the table. That made for some challenges Jason wasn't used to, like his breasts getting in the way and constantly having to push his hair back. He kept doing it and Stacy realized he had no idea how to handle it. The eggs would be okay for just a second. The contents of her purse were still everywhere, but what she needed was on top of the table. It was an elastic headband, about two inches wide, and still had a strand of Stacy's pale red hair stuck in it. Sit up, she told Jason, standing behind him on the couch. Sit up, she repeated and tapped him on the back. Her on the back. When Jason did, Stacy spread the headband out with her fingers and worked it over the top of Jason's head and down to his neck before sliding it back up. She let the back of it catch on where the thick, silky mass of hair on the nape of the neck would hold it, and pulled the front up and back onto the forehead so that Jason's hair was trapped by it and held back from his face so he would work. She adjusted it to fit better on the top of Jason's ears and then stopped. Jason's hair was heavy, thick, but not like it had been. The color was the same but deeper somehow, shinier and more liquid too. There didn't seem to be any conditioner or product in it either. It was like it had never been washed and was brand new and beautifully perfect. The eggs! Just in time she lifted the skillet off the stove. It hurt her wrist so she used both hands and jiggled them out onto the plate that already held the bacon. Stacy had already gotten out some honey dew and added two pieces, then added two more for herself. Oh God, would she ever eat off Jason's plate again? Would they play fight about it and he'd tease her until she laughed and then have a wonderful make up kiss? Stacy almost dropped the plate and felt suddenly dizzy. It passed but left her feeling hollow. Come eat, she said and put the plate on the buffet ledge between the kitchen and the living room. There was already a napkin and fork and knife and a cup of orange juice, the pulpy kind Jason liked that was like drinking pieces of orange as much as juice. Stacy hated it. Jason usually ate breakfast standing up because it let him put his laptop on the side and keep reading while he ate. Did you find anything? she said, but from the kitchen with the half wall of the buffet between them where normally Stacy would have stood behind Jason, arms around his waist and head on his back. Her breakfast hug she called it.