𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄, 𝐅𝐈𝐗𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 on his hair. She just…it was such a vibrant hue. It reminded her of the days where she was making the luxurious dresses she use to make. So long, and thus far from what she could tell--healthy. That particular shade--she knew it well.
❝ …Forgive me. I had not meant to stare. ❞ She states softly, gaze moving to meet his. ❝ I had no intention on touching your person. ❞ Though, now that he mentioned it-the curiosity did rise. ❝ ….At least, not originally. I was merely reminded of something. I will say…you have a vibrant shade. And I can tell you take good care. It is beautiful. ❞
Reminded her of something? Perhaps it was his brother. He wasn't a mind reader – Well. Most of the time. Sometimes he guessed things correctly.
❝ I don't mind. I know you're not going to pull it or anything. Thank you, by the way, I try. Your hair is beautiful as well… Perhaps we can share routines sometimes. ❞
They had known each other for a few months now, given she was his main seamstress for his work. It was one of the things unfortunately instilled into him by his brother – If you're going to do something, don't do it half-assed. Hire someone that will achieve the results you would desire.
Or some shit along those lines.
❝ How is your day going? I trust no bad clients, hopefully? ❞
