A Simple Kind of Life

Yes! [Amber]

Christmas 

2002

Red hair dye dripped everywhere. It gushed between the latex gloves on Anastasia's hands, painting Mia's neck and ears. It leaked on the chair, staining the dark wood. Fiery specs dotted the carpet, and Anastasia realized it would have probably been a good idea to put paper or plastic down beforehand.

But she had no idea what she was doing. She never colored someone's hair before. Mia was lucky the bleach didn't burn her scalp off. But whatever baggy tee shirt she wore was ruined now, and it would probably be a good week before the dye would come off her skin. Mia didn't seem to mind, however, holding a mirror up to her face as Anastasia raked color into her hair.

Mia pinched tweezers at her brows, moving quickly, the dark hairs falling and landing all over her face. When she pulled at a difficult hair, she winced.

"Fucking hell—" She dropped the mirror to her lap and rubbed at her eye. "—why'd you guys let me go this long without doing shit? I'm like a fucking woolly mammoth."

Anastasia scrubbed more dye into her roots, her gaze planted on Mia's head. "You wanted me to tell you that you looked like shit?"

A grunt rumbled in Mia's throat, and she stayed silent for a moment. "Fuck, I don't know. I don't know what I want."

When she stopped talking and sat there silently, Anastasia watched her tap her nails against the glass of the mirror—even those were horrible too. Chipped polish, overgrown cuticles. This was the job of a professional and here Anastasia was trying to help her like an amateur.

The sound of the TV poured into the background, and it was enough to drown out the silence. Mia looked down at the stained floor and sighed. "Sorry about your carpet."

Anastasia shrugged, shaking the bottle of dye as she squeezed out its remains. "It's cool. I'll just buy another one."

Once Mia's hair was sopping wet with pigment, Anastasia rolled off her gloves. "Okay, so now what?"

When Mia hunched her back forward, her hair fell over her shoulders, spreading the color on her shirt. "I wait like an hour and then we wash it out."

As Mia sat there in front of the TV, Anastasia went to the kitchen, disposing the gloves, grabbing a box of the expensive chocolates from the island. She shoved the box into Mia's lap, taking the mirror from her.

Mia looked up at her strangely, her eyes large and vivid—the color of daylight. Little hairs peppered her face, and she must have felt them because she swiped her knuckles over her skin. "Thanks."

"It's whatever."

When Anastasia sat across from Mia on the couch, she noticed the blank stare on her face as she sat there, waiting for her hair to soak in the color, gawking at the commercials on the TV. Mia immediately began eating the chocolates, opening the box and sticking each elegantly wrapped piece in her mouth. Some of them she didn't even chew. She looked so miserable.

Anastasia brought her legs to the cushion, curling into herself to generate warmth. Her black nightie barely reached her thighs, the lace trickling at her hip bones. She had expected Mia to call here a whore by now, but so far into the afternoon, she was being strangely pleasant. To lift the stillness, Anastasia cleared her throat.

Mia looked at her briefly, her cheeks puffed with chocolate. "What?"

She couldn't control the clever smile that captivated her lips. "Guess what?"

A familiar look of homicide glossed over Mia's eyes. "What?"

"I touched it."

Anastasia coiled a lock of hair around her finger as she leaned her body onto the armrest, while Mia huffed a laugh, plucking out another piece of candy.