Re: Live and Breathe: Derek and Marta
Derek, for her part, wore very little makeup though most were convinced she wore more. Lipstick usually, though she'd gotten better at winged eyeliner when she was feeling especially dramatic. She prefer to call it blades though, not that she ever mentioned that in public, or to anyone really. Beyond that, she didn't wear any, but Marta's? It gave the girl a healthier glow, healthier than Derek had ever seen her at any rate.
Once upon a time -- otherwise known as Marta's first day here -- she had been distinctly unhealthy looking, her skin dull, bruises fading, and her eyes comically doe-shocked. Things were better now.
And her acceptance of the hug? Derek folded her up gently, but she was careful, mindful that Marta was breakable in ways that she wasn't, and would only be at certain times in her long life span. But there was something else, something that lingered like a shadow around Marta's hearth that she didn't probe at.
At the mention of her shoes, Derek glanced down and shrugged. While she did like Marta to look her best, and one slim arm remained around her shoulders, to guide her back into the break room, she wasn't overly concerned with what was on her feet. "Go barefoot if you want," she said with a sweep of her free hand and promptly stopped, middle of the room, to kick off her own heels. She'd get them on the way out. "But don't let anyone step on your toes."