"Guess you better," Porrim agrees softly, dabbing at the black around his eyes now, blending it out across his cheekbones, masking his features a little more. She's good at what she does; it's hard, from an outside perspective, to see why she quit being a Stylist, but she has her reasons. And besides, if she hadn't changed jobs, well, she wouldn't be here right now.

It's not long before she finishes, and she pulls away reluctantly. "There. You're beautiful."