@bellorxm
Mumbling under his breath, Thor repeated Frigga’s intrustuctinos to himself as he gently fiddled with Sif’s hair – attempting a small braid. But in moments, he huffed before deciding to start again. Running his fingers through her hair, the misshapen plait fell apart.
“Sit still,” he grumbles, organising segments of her hair for his next attempt, “You make it much harder when you move.” It’s easier to blame Sif’s minuscule movements than his own clumsiness.















