I don’t have any real explanation for this other than I was bored and in the mood to write.
He’s always messing with his hair.
Rubbing it, grabbing it, sticking his fingers in at odd angles and twisting. Ruffling it up to impress. Flattening it the week after his mum dies.
It shouldn’t even be that interesting. His hair doesn’t have infinite shades like hers does. It doesn’t flow around his shoulders or shine in the sunlight. It doesn’t even smell like anything but shampoo, the few times she’s been close enough to notice.
(She’s definitely not looking for opportunities to do that because that would be pathetic.)
If anything, he should be thinking about her hair. Her hair is a marvel, and deserves every single compliment she gets for it.
But he never talks about her hair. It’s always, “Morning, lovely eyes,” or “After you and your fantastic bum,” or “Use those marvelous hands to pass me the salt, would you?”
A year ago he wouldn’t have made these sorts of comments. Not because he wasn’t thinking them (he probably was), but because he knew she would’ve caused him permanent damage.
Now…now there are no hexes from her. She’s got a look instead. A look she has perfected, with the right blend of unimpressed eyebrow lilt and slight tilt of the head, the one that says, “Really?”
It’s not an effective deterrent.
But deterrence isn’t the game. Not anymore.
And he knows it, too, the prick. He volleys back to her look with a slight pull on one corner of his mouth, a knowing, cocky half-smile, and for a second they’re stuck entirely on each other, dancing around the issue.
It isn’t that she doesn’t know what she wants (the short hairs at the back of his neck tickling against her palms and why is that all she can think about). It isn’t that he wouldn’t say yes if she asked.
Part of it is that the game itself is fun. It’s only October, and they’ve got time. They’re spiraling to a point, they just haven’t got there yet, and the journey is half the fun.
The other part is that he seems to be cataloging her with compliments except for her hair.
It’s weird. It doesn’t make sense.
Finally she cracks.