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Genesis’ apartment is neat and clean. She’s rarely home, but the bookshelves covering the wall in the living room show that she considers it home. They’re stocked to the brim with different versions of Loveless; collector’s editions, foreign translations, cheap and expensive editions, painted-edge editions, and commissioned hand-bound ones. The shelves are colorful and arranged in a way only she knows how to navigate.
Genesis lies on the black L-shaped sofa in the living room, arm slung over her eyes as she lounges. Your sweet voice carries through the air from the bathroom, and she listens with an appreciative ear. She’s been ready for a while now; hair sprayed and event clothes put on a long time ago. She’s waiting patiently for you to get yourself ready. She doesn’t really care about getting anywhere on time, never has.
In the bathroom, you stand in front of the large mirror of the sink, putting on your mascara. You’re almost ready; makeup soon done, hair in your rollers. The clothes you’ve picked out for the evening are laid out neatly on Genesis’ bed, and you’re wearing her sweatpants and one of her old t-shirts. You sing along to the music playing from your phone, and the contents of your makeup bag are haphazardly strewn about on the sink’s marble counter.
You finish your makeup up with your setting spray, turn off the music, and stick your head out the bathroom door and into the hallway. “Hey, Genesis!” you call.
She answers with an inquisitive hum.
“Can you do my hair?” you ask.
“Yeah, can I do it in here?” she calls back.
You don’t answer, but she hears clattering from the bathroom. You round the corner of the hallway, and in your hand you carry a hairbrush, a compact mirror, and your lipstick. You look stunning, she always thinks you do, and she drinks in the sight of you with no shame.
You give her a sweet smile and sit down on the carpet in front of the sofa. She begins to take the rollers out, carefully, one by one, and you put on your lipstick. You sit in comfortable silence as you enjoy the feeling of her hands in your hair and the scent of her cologne.
Genesis finishes up with hairspray and fluffs your hair out with her hands. “There we go, my love,” she says, and presses a chaste kiss to the nape of your neck. Her lips linger for a moment before she pulls away, and you know she’s holding herself back; you have an event to get to after all.
You stand back up and turn around with a twirl. “How do I look?” you ask her.
“Like a beautiful flower in spring,” she says, her usual extravagant compliments stuck in her throat at the sight of you.
A giggle slips out from your lips. You reach out to hold her face tenderly and press a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll just get dressed, ready in a sec, okay?”
She watches you hurry to her bedroom with a fond smile and lies back down. If anyone else had been there, she’d be cooler about… well, everything, but you always fluster her without even needing to lift a finger. Angeal and Sephiroth always tease her about how much she talks about you, and how highly she does so. What’s the point of hiding her love for you, anyway?
Her thoughts are stopped short by the sound of you trotting back out from her bedroom. “Good to go!” you say with a wink and a thumbs-up.
Genesis rolls off the sofa and takes a few long strides toward you. She kisses you with a small smile, and you swipe your lipstick off her bottom lip after you pull away. Your hand is caught gently by hers, and she leans down and kisses your knuckles.
“Shall we get going, my Goddess?”