Chapter Text
The rush of water running from the tap echoes cooly in the tiled space. The light fragrance of blossoms and fruits scents the air. Foamy white suds sluice and slide off dark strands, catch in the whirlpool of water swirling down the drain, spiralling little curlicues vanishing out of sight. The strong, meticulous, long fingered hands, weave in and out, with gentle pressure, massaging and scrubbing. A brow that creases intermittently with pleasure at the careful administrations.
A soft moan.
"Oh, that feels so good." they purr. It's so indulgent. It's the secret confidence of someone who has gone too long without being touched, without being pampered. Both. A content sigh. The smallest of smirks tugs at the corner of his lips, satisfied that he can deliver such, peace and contentment. The last of the soap is gone and nothing but gleaming wet strands remain.
"There," he rumbles softly, reaching for the soft turban to wrap the hair in. "All done."
"Already?" they laugh, "Are you sure?"
His robust, warm chuckle in response. "I'm quite sure. Now come on, let's get you in a chair."
"Oh, fine, fine. Move, you." good natured teasing as they rise, sidestepping around him and being gladly directed to a seat.
It's a little wait, while he calls out instructions on how long to leave in a dye before he returns. Capable ands land on their shoulders. Warm, comfortable, familiar. He is always like an old friend to his clients. He's trusted, dependable. And whether he wants to be or not, sometimes woven into the saga of their lives. "So, still feeling bold?" he queries.
They turn their head from side to side, admiring the dark ruby tresses. They've never been a red head before. "It's a little late to turn back now, isn't it?" they laughs. Catching the eye of their reflection in the mirror they give a definitive nod. "I'm good to go."
"I assure you, you're in good hands with me,"
They flap a hand dismissively in the air, tossing their head. "With you Ichabod Crane? I always am"
Your Crown and Glory