♧:Your muse playing with their hair
“You have the softest hair.”
“Is that so?” Sooyoung asks, disinterested, eyes on her cellphone, scrolling through her contacts. Looking for her next victim to tangled all up in her web. Her eyes are perfectly shaded, winged eyeliner making her look some some cat-eyed goddess, lips red like blood, her face powdered with her perfect white lies.
Donghoon sits behind her, braiding her hair to complete the picture of perfect elegance, of casual control.
“Yeah,” he says, trailing his fingers through the soft strands. “It’s unreal.”
Maybe it is. It’s hard to tell with her. What she means, what she doesn’t, what’s real, what’s not.
She doesn’t answer, typing a text with her manicured red fingernails.
“Will you let him touch it tonight?” It’s not an accusation, but it’s not really a question either.
Her fingers hover over the phone and then she presses send.
“Of course not, oppa,” she says saccharine sweet like poison. “Only you.”
It’s what he wants to hear, that no one but him could do this with her, fingers through her soft, silky brown hair. He lets it slip through his fingers, like a promise, like a wish, like quicksilver. The more you hold on to it, the harder it is to keep it.
“Maybe you should wear it down tonight,” he says and flops back down on the bed, rolling over and grabbing her coat, holding it out for her.
Sooyoung looks at the hair elastic adorned with flowers he’s leaving on the table. It matches her dress well.
“Perhaps,” she says, grabbing it anyway, without looking at him when she takes her coat. “Don’t wait up.”
Donghoon laughs and talks over the echo of a closed door.
“Never do anymore.”