I didn't mention the colour of the dye in this story, so you can just imagine it's whatever you want! enjoy <3
"How many fumes are we breathing in right now?" Wilbur asked, trying to open the bathroom window wider than it already was, knocking over the (thankfully empty) bleach container, making even more of a mess.
You sighed, collecting the containers and shoving them into a bin bag, flipping him off when his back was turned. This was already difficult enough.
"Well, the window is open, so it's fine," you answered, chucking a random bottle cap at him, giggling when he turned to look at you, acting wounded. Jumping up onto your feet, you barely made it two steps before he grabbed you, arms wrapping around your waist, and spun you around, your feet kicking out. "Wilbur, the dye's gonna get on your clothes!"
He ignored that, dye smearing across his t-shirt (thank god that it was an old one, or you'd never hear the end of it), holding you close to him. Swaying from side to side, he made you face the mirror, grinning when you stuck out your tongue.
You both looked like hot messes, the dye covering your entire head making you look a little crazy, and the streak in his hair falling in front of his face, the rest pinned back. Humming in contentment, he nodded proudly at your reflection. "We look great."
Your phone rang out loudly, the alarm telling you to hurry up and get the dye washed off, so you detangled yourself from his arms, brandishing the showerhead like a weapon. "We're going to look great is what you mean, Wilbur."
~~~
Wilbur shook his head, fluffing up his hair and leant in close to the mirror, eyes transfixed onto the streak in his hair. A smile curled his lips upward, eyes glinting.
You went to stand next to him, your hair matching his streak. "Well, now everyone will know we're dating."
"And that you look hot."
Blushing, you coughed awkwardly, averting your gaze. "That too, I guess?"
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(A/N-this is all i want in life pls </3 thank you for reading and voting! :)))
