2D carefully studies the rows of bottles in front of him while he lets his fingers soak in the bowl of coconut oil. You sit opposite him, waiting for him to make his choice, painting your own nails with Summer Peach nail polish. He narrows his eyes, humming under his breath.
You wipe away an errant smear of nail polish with your thumb and then wipe it on the nail polish remover soaked rag beside you.
“Murdoc’ll be home before you’ve chosen,” you warn, “and you’ll have to sneak all of his back into his room before he notices,”“Let me choose,” he whines, wiggling his fingers in the coconut oil to produce a slimy sound. You shrug and hold your hands up in mock surrender, then blow on your nails to dry them.
“How’re you gonna paint my nails if yours’re wet?” he asks, selecting three bottles and bringing them forward to look at them. You waggle your fingers at him, picking up the bottle of clear nail polish.
“I’ll let them dry first,” you tell him, “and at the rate you’re choosing, they’ll have flaked off already,”
S/o painting 2D’s nails
Published
Toad's Cave 