imagines | p.s.

what's in your hair (2/3)

disclaimer;; ive never dyed my hair at home before so im going off of information that i vaguely know or assume.

You watched nervously as Patrick dumped the contents of the shopping bag onto the kitchen table. The small clutter of items contained hair bleach, Cotton Candy Pink Manic Panic dye, and shampoo and conditioner. Patrick had basically had to convince you for about an hour to let him dye your hair and not a professional, using the argument that he'd done his own hair before. Still, you were nervous as hell.

Patrick reached across the table for your hand, running his thumb across your knuckles. "Baby, I'm not gonna mess anything up," he promised. "You and your hair will be just fine."

You took in a deep breath. "I know, it's just.. I've never done anything more than highlights in my hair," you said. Patrick nodded.

"I understand, sweetheart," he said. "Really, though, it'll be okay."

After a minute, you picked up the container of hair dye and turned it over in your free hand. You nodded. "I know, I know."

Patrick smiled and released your hand, taking the packaging off of the items. "Well, if you're ready, go sit in the bathroom and get some towels.

A few minutes later, Patrick had you sitting on his knee while he applied the bleach to your hair. The process seemed slower than you expected; you had thought he would just apply it in one big glob and be done, but it had to be done one chunk of hair at a time.

When you squirmed a little, Patrick winced. "Don't move, please."

"Why?"

He sighed. "If I get any of this bleach on your skin, I can bet you that it's gonna burn, because you have sensitive skin anyway. I don't want to hurt you."

You heaved a small sigh. "Okay."

Patrick adjusted his gloves and applied more bleach to another lock of your hair.

"Nervous?" He asked. You shrugged.

"A little, but it's too late to stop, so I'll be okay," you told him. Your husband nodded.

"Yeah, I get it," he said. "I was the same way when I bleached my hair; afraid I would regret it, but I knew about halfway through the process that I'd have to deal with whatever became of my hair."

You both sat in silence for a while, you leaning forward a little to give him easier access to your hair. Your neck and back were beginning to hurt from being so stiff and still for so long, but Patrick's fingers felt nice while they gently tugged on your hair. It was so quiet and calm that you couldn't help but jump when he cleared his throat, but your head moving made his bleach-covered fingers graze against your scalp. A burning sensation took over a small square inch on your scalp.

It wasn't too terrible of a pain, but enough to make your eyes water. You grunted and restrained yourself from reaching back to touch your head.

Patrick tore off his gloves. "I'm so sorry," he said soothingly, rubbing your back and grabbing your hand. "I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry, does it hurt?"

You shook your head slowly. "It's okay, just burns a little," you said. "It was my fault anyway; I jumped."

Patrick nodded. "Are you okay?" He asked softly.

"Yes," you breathed out. Patrick leaned over your body to kiss your cheek.

"I really am sorry baby," he sighed. "I'm done with your hair anyway. We can rinse the bleach out and get on with the pink, okay?"

You laughed. "Yep."

"I'm excited to see you platinum blond, to be honest," Patrick giggled. You nodded in agreement.

"Me too," you said. "Really, though, I'm ready to see myself as a pink ass cherry blossom."

fast update, I know. do you guys want part three tomorrow, or the day after? i have the entire thing written out so.