ordinary.✖️m.c

hair dye.

LOOK AT THAT PIC HES SO CUTE AND INNOCENT

FUCK

OKAY BYE

"Oh, how about this one?" she asks, taking a box in her hand and showing it to me. We had finahed off the pizza and were currently in a beauty supply store, looking through various colors of hair dye. I was starting to get anxious, honestly, I was kinda freaked out to be dying my hair.

I mean, what if something went wrong and all my hair fell out? Or it turned an ungodly color? Or my parent's flipped shit? What would people think? Kids at school, what would they say?

Luna must have noticed my delay, "I think it will look good on you." she assured me.

"I don't know..."

"C'mon Michael." she groaned.

~

"Okay, we have to be quiet, my dad might be asleep." she hushed me as we opened the front door. She grabbed my hand, sending a new kind of feeling through me. My breath hitched inmy throat fr a moment. Luna touching me made me feel as if I was on cloud nine, I didn't feel on this earth. I didn't want it to end. She tugged me upstairs, heading into the bathroom and softly closing the door behind her.

"Okay, let's do this." she grins She takes the plasic bag from my hands and begins to read the box, mixing and prepping the hair dye.

"H-Have you ever done this before?"

"Nope."

~

"Does it look okay?" I question nervously as she stands in front of me. She had just finished blow drying my hair and she was staring at me with wide eyes. It was terrifying me. "Well?" I ask harshly.

"I-uh, yeah. It's good-it looks really good." she mutters.

"That doesn't sound good, let me see!" I groan.

"No, really, it looks good, like really good." she breaths. She gets out of the way, giving me acess to the mirror

"Oh, um, wow." I say, I actually liked it. I really liked it. It was a pale lavender color mixed with a blue-ish color.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it."

~

"Michael Gordon Clifford! What the hell did you do to your hair!?!"

"Um, I sorta dyed it." I say in a small voice.

"Why? Oh my God, why?" she groans out. I shrug, nt really knowing what to say.

"Is this about a girl? Michael," she sighs, "you don't have to dye your hair, to get a girl to like you." she rubs her temples.

"This isn't about a girl!" I lie quickly, emabarassed.

"Michael." she rolls her eyes. "I'm not stupid. What's her name?" she asks, going back to cleaning the dishes.

"Luna." I say quietly, a light blush creeping onto my cheeks.

"Does she go to your school?"

"Yeah."

"Does she like you back?"

"Hell no."