When you got together, your hair was short. A pixie cut, i guess it would be described as. Eddie had hair to a little past his shoulders. You didn't think it would bother you, but jealousy crouched in your chest whenever you helped him wash it, tie it up. You stopped going to trims, growing your hair out passively. After about 2 months of not trimming it, you were laying on Eddies chest as he played with your hair. "Your hairs getting long baby", he says, running his fingers through the shorter strands at the bottom of your head. "I know. Im growing it out.", you reply nonchalantly, rolling over to look at him. He gasps and sits up, throwing you off of him.
"Eddie?", you half laugh as he runs to the bathroom, coming back a minute later with a handful of haircare products. "Here baby I have extras! Come in the bathroom ill show you how to wash properly. Look i even have these!", he gushes, guiding you into the bathroom, helping you undress and into the shower. He tells you all about what products to use, how much water to drink, what to eat for the best hair growth as he washes your hair. "Ok so conditioner then shampoo then conditioner again. Oh and you can do inversion therapy which is where you hand upside down and massage your scalp, ill show you how to do it later baby. And ill make you some rosemary and sage water, its so good for your hair."
He helps you out of the shower, explaining that you shouldn't scrub your hair, and not to brush it straight out of the shower unless you have really curly hair. He gently wraps your hair in a t shirt and leads you out into the kitchen where he starts to make the rosemary and sage water, the kitchen filling with the smell of rosemary.
He was always gentle with you. A year later and your hair had grown out to a little past your shoulders, and he was very proud of himself. Reminding you to drink water, brushing your hair gently and putting products in it whenever you stayed over. Soft and shiny, you got compliments from everyone about your hair, smiling and pointing to your boyfriend.
A few years later, and both of you had hair to your waists. It had become an important part of your day, braiding each other's hair before bed, brushing it in the morning and putting it into that days style. Braids, buns, ponytails. Special occasions were marked by intricately braided hair, dozens of plaits skillfully arranged. You both took a great deal of pride in it.
He had proposed months ago. He was careful to pick a ring that didn't have sharp angles so it wouldn't snag in your hair. You sat together early the morning of your wedding, weaving the others hair into beautiful patterns. You ordered black roses months before, sewing and weaving them into his braids. He did the same for you, the bouquet of your wedding sewn into both of your hair.
