Under different circumstances her unflinching, no-nonsense bluntness would have had him cracking a laugh – but today he takes it all with little more than a slightly quirked brow before he shuts his eyes, wondering just what he is subjecting himself to when this makeover is beginning to sound like some sort of painful medical procedure. Her knee touches his as she leans in and he shifts his leg a little with the smallest twinge of awareness. Though he doesn't draw it back.

He’s free of scars, at least as far as his face is concerned. But he seems to have a talent for acquiring bruises, fresh ones generally appearing before the others have the chance to fade entirely, and today is no exception. Not seeing eye-to-eye with Peacekeepers will do that. But the point of the concealer dabbing against his hot, aching skin - the edge of one cheekbone and his jaw - undoes it, little by little, while he obligingly sits still.