( soft meme ❜ ⋮ not accepting
After the disappointment of her last braid crown, Yerin had submerged herself into her “studies;” this morning, she parks herself in front of her laptop and strives to absorb every little tip & technique. Sally’s always so kind no matter the result, but for once – just once – she wants to wow him with something other than food. Fingers follow along the intricate tutorial, subconsciously practicing with her small roll of yarn as she attempts to make a rose of the old wool. A rose that would suit Sally so well, she thinks; she has no flowers to give today, but she’d like to weave one into his hair for him.
Her humble rose is complete in a few minutes, secured with a few barrettes. It’s much neater than she had anticipated, but yarn is different, more forgiving and predictable than hair. And Sally’s hair is mercurial, so soft that wisps of it constantly curl free from her plaits, springing up like dandelions poking heads above an evenly-cut ( or plaited ) field. But she supposes that’s his charm, too. She’s so pre-occupied with her videos that she doesn’t even hear the bell ring downstairs, or her older sister answering the door when her guest arrives. It’s only when her door opens that she realizes Sally’s here at all, but she rushes over to greet him with apologies, gesturing back towards her screen.
❝ Oh – Sally! I’m so sorry, I was watching hair videos. I was thinking today we – ❞ Before she can continue, she’s suddenly wrapped up in his embrace, closer to him than she can ever remember being before. They’ve hugged a few times in the past, but never like this; this is tighter, warmer, and suddenly she realizes just how small he is. He’s a little shorter than her and he fits just right in her returning embrace … her chin dips over his shoulder as her fingertips reach his back, hesitating and then attempting to soothe. Concern blanches what shyness would have pinked; she’s afraid something happened at his home.
❝ Is everything … is everything okay? ❞