Amy
I leaned closer to the mirror with my makeup brush in my hand, tracing the last bit of color onto my lips. I thought I'd lost it but I didn't mess it up even a bit. It felt foreign though, like I was painting on someone else’s face and not mine. Makeup had stopped being a big deal to me years ago when life gave me a s**t show, it stuck me down to tired eyes, chapped lips, and messy buns but now here I was, curling my lashes as if this night carried a weight I didn’t want to admit. I looked at the mirror just hoping I was what I thought I looked like.
Zim pushed the door open and slowly stepped in flopping against the doorframe.
“Whoa, Mom, you look… beautiful.” His tone was half-teasing, half-serious, and my heart pinched a little.
I rolled my eyes at him through the mirror. “Huh,
