He looks to where her gaze had lingered only moments before. "Makeovers, actually." He corrects her, not unkindly.

The easier options, subjectively speaking – video games, pillow fighting, and spin-the-bottle – are the most popular, it'd seem. He has an apologetic knit to his brow as he reaches back to scratch at the nape of his neck. "I'm tellin' you now I, uh... don't have much experience workin' with any a' that makeup stuff."

It's one of those time-consuming, sacred rituals his girlfriends would have never let him help with, not that he had ever thought to ask. He figures it's on the same level as having someone else shave his face for him. "Figure it can't be all that hard, though. I mean, it ain't rocket science."