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(They went to the director's office for hair and makeup?)
Spies One-On-One (Closed)
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//shoot
I will change that
Sorry I was not paying attention
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(Lol. I figured you just forgot what they were doing.)
"Hey, do we need to have a talk? Because I think you need to up your confidence how beautiful you are," Spencer declared with feigned sternness.
//yep
“Nah, we’re good,” Anya said with a grin. “The amazing makeup people will make me look okay, and then I’ll be required to at least pretend.”
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Spencer rolled his eyes. "You'll look great. I mean, not better than you already do, but close."
Anya laughed. “Nice save.”
Just then, the makeup people came over and directed them to their respective stations.
//is that ok
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"What do you mean, 'Nice save?'" Spencer called as he was led away. "I was complimenting you!"
“I know,” Anya laughed. “Just… never mind.” He was too faraway to hear, anyways.
For the next hour (?), the stylists assigned to Anya helped her figure out her hair, makeup, and clothing for the assignment. When the hour (?) was up, Anya was a redhead with brown eyes, in possession of a suitcase full of the clothing she’d need.
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Spencer was waiting for her, his own suitcase in hand. It held mostly casual clothes, so they must not be going anywhere very professional.
When Anya was on her way over, Spencer grinned, running his free hand through his now-black hair. "You look great… But I miss your regular hair."
Anya laughed. “Well, you look good with black hair. But, yeah, I thinkI miss your regular hair, too.” She studied his face. “And it’s weird to see you with grey eyes.”
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Spencer blinked and took a step closer to her, smiling. "It's weird seeing you with red hair and brown eyes."
“Well, the same to you,” Anya smiled, mirroring his step forward. “But different colors.”
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"I would be concerned if my hair was suddenly red and my eyes were brown," Spencer chuckled, reaching out to set a hand in her waist in the other on her cheek.
“That might mean you had magical powers,” Anya teased, leaning into his touch. “Which could be useful… but sporadically changing hair colors would probably give us away.”
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"It probably would," Spencer agreed with another chuckle. He gently pulled her closer, pressing a light kiss to her head.
Anya let herself relax. After a few seconds, she pulled away. “Shall we go figure out our backstories?”
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"That sounds like a good idea," Spencer agreed, giving her a soft smile and grabbing her hand gently. "Do you want to go back to my room?"
“Sure,” Anya said, squeezing his hand. She picked up her suitcase with her free hand before adding, “Lead the way.”
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(Did I forget to respond to the other RP?)
Spencer squeezed her hand back as he grabbed his own suitcase. He held the door open for her as they walked out, then led her down the hall.
//nah I think I did
Anya walked beside him, her suitcase in hand. She was already forming her character in her head. Victoria Hunter, 29, married to James Hunter for… hmm… maybe two years?
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(Lol. I saw that.)
Married to her… I get to pretend to be married to her… How did this happen? Spencer wondered, hiding the grin that threatened to escape as they walked down the hall.
(Also, post of my birth-year! Lol. XP)
//XD
Should we time skip a bit
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(Sure. How 'bout to when they arrive at the room? Or maybe after they figure out their backstory?)
//either works for me
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(Urgh, not helpful… I guess I'll just…)
When they reached Spencer's room, he unlocked the door and held it open for Anya to walk in.
"You can just leave the suitcase by the door if you'd like," he suggested.
//I’m sorry
I can’t write today
“Okay,” Anya nodded, setting her suitcase next to the door, but far enough out-of-the-way that nobody would trip on it.
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(Lol. It's okay. I'm just hungry because I haven't eaten lunch yet.)
Spencer stepped inside after her and set his suitcase beside hers as he shut the door. "So, any ideas for the backstory?"
//oof.
:P
“I was thinking… we’re a couple, right? So maybe… I’m twenty-nine, you’re thirty? We’ve been married for about two years,” Anya thought aloud. “We should set an anniversary date, for believability.”
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"All right, sounds good. What about… November eighteenth?" Spencer suggested, walking over to the kitchen to grab a couple of glasses for water.
“Works for me,” Anya shrugged, following him. “And birthdays… mine will be June twenty-second. You got me…. hang on.”
She retrieved her suitcase from next to the door and brought it over, placing it on the table and opening it. “Hmm… you got me… this!” She pulled out a small green stone hanging on a thin chain. “You bought me this necklace for my last birthday.”