“so, when you went to whatever hole-in-the-wall salon it is that you go to,” judas began, opening one of the windows of his apartment. “and told them that you wanted,” he paused for a few seconds, placing a cigarette between his lips. he sat against the window sill, cupping his hand around the tip of the cigarette so he could light it, before tossing the lighter onto the table. “that - thing,” he gestured to his own hair with his pointer finger, moving it around in a circular motion. he wasn’t the best at charades, but he was sure that he got his point across. “with that color, they just gave it to you? without asking if you were under the influence of any alcohol, medication or recreational drugs?” he snorted, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “i find that very hard to believe. and i also can’t believe that you really did that to yourself. you make it so hard to be your friend, taewoon. i can’t take you out anywhere looking like that. i mean, your clothes were one thing, but now this? i can’t make excuses for you on this.” // @taewocn
