cascade | kotlc

17. Tenebrosity

"This is horrible," June grumbled, trying to calm the mess that was her hair, again.

She'd stayed for a while, but Fitz had forced her to go home and get some rest. According to him, it wasn't particularly safe to run high-risk missions in the Forbidden Cities while being sleep deprived. Unfortunately, he was probably right.

However, that meant she'd woken up much too this morning. And her case of bed hair certainly wasn't fading in an hour.

"AGH. FUCKING HELL. STUPID FUCKING HAIR." She ran her fingers down her knotted, grassy hair, groaning frustratedly when her hands immediately snagged on a sticky thread. No amount of water or shampoo or even fucking the Dizznee's LovelyLocks could solve this problem. "WHY ISN'T FITZ HERE?"

"Why isn't Fitz here?" a voice asked from the end of the bathroom.

"AHHHHH!" She whipped around, almost throwing a glass bottle of champagne at the intruder. When she realized it was Fitz, she set down the bottle and collapsed into a chair.

"Please help," she begged, gesturing at the bird nest atop her head.

"Of course." Fitz moved over, grabbing several vials off her counter and frowning when he patted her hair. "How the fuck did you manage to do this?"

"I don't know!" she wailed. "Why does this always happen?"

He held his hands up like he was cornering a wild animal. "I can fix this," he promised, his brows puckering together. "Well... maybe."

"You have to fix this for me. I can't go to the Council looking like this. I look like I've been trampled by a dying brontosaurus."

"Hey, I think you look hot," Fitz argued, pointing to a flyaway strand decorating her forehead. "That makes you look like a rebel queen, almost. I like it. You really should do that more."

June felt the corner of her lip tilt up, and she struggled to keep it down. "I agree with the 'queen' part," she told him, trying to keep her voice haughty. "And I'll do it more if you can fix the rest of it."

"You're adorable." Fitz ruffled her hair affectionately before he set to work, pouring colorful serums and shampoo into a basin and stirring thoroughly until the water was a viscous neon yellow-green. He beckoned her to dip her head in.

"That looks like someone puked in it," she pouted, letting Fitz drag her over and wet her hair.

"No it doesn't," he said amiably, unsheating a diamond comb and twirling it around his fingers like it was a butterfly knife.

"Oh, stop it, you're not impressing anyone."

"Are you sure about that?" he teased, poking her cheek with the handle before he raked the comb through. His forehead creased and June yeowed in pain, and he bent down, kissing the top of her head. "Your hair certainly does not get along with you."

"Fix it," she demanded, propping her feet up on the counter. "Or you don't get any kisses for the next week."

He stepped back, gasping and clutching his chest in mock hurt. "How could you? I've been tricked, I've been backstabbed, and I've been, quite possibly, bamboozled."

"How the fuck do you even know that meme?"

"I've been studying." He grinned, drawing closer and pecking her on the cheek before he went back to her hair. She glowered halfheartedly, rubbing her hand over where she'd just been kissed.

"I was thinking, we elves should build something that automatically does your hair," Fitz was saying. "I mean, come on! We've got spectral mirrors. All we're missing is something to do that for you. Heck, install virtual girls into those mirrors, I don't give a fuck-"