Dichrome || k.th [COMPLETED]

27| Autumn Leaves

"αєѕтнєтє; ѕσмєσηє ωιтн α ∂єєρ ѕєηѕιтινιту тσ тнє вєαυту σƒ αят σя ηαтυяє."

°·.°·..·°¯°·._.·t w e n t y - s e v e n·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°

An incomprehensible feeling coursing through your bloodstream, spiking goosebumps at every possible region of skin.

Sheer beauty thrilled you to your core as you watched the fine neon-blue strands stand proudly with the support of your natural hair.

You almost drew out your hand to touch the female that observed you back; so intently, fascinated. Like she was unable to recognize the person sitting before her, with her freshly-dyed hair.

The buttery light gifted a soft luminosity to the pigment, enhancing its vibrance to a point it was the centre of attention in the entire salon. The mirror ahead showed a young girl whisper something to her equally enraptured mother whilst excitedly but not-so-discreetly pointing toward your masterpiece.

You felt the bottom of your stomach contort in gratification, cheeks red. Perhaps being complimented - passively, wasn't something you'd have much trouble getting used to.

Because you had realized that no appreciation, no heart-fluttering comment actually mattered. Words can be spoken with or without the mind's consent. With or without meaning.

No compliment mattered to you except from the one longingly eager about.

From him.

A small smile crept onto your lips as you shyly tucked a soft lock of hair behind your ear. Cerulean colors shimmering beautifully as your fingers gently combed the strands.

"Thank you." You whispered kittenishly to your hairdresser who stood behind you, absolutely content with the results of her effort.

She nodded serenely, gesturing you to pin your straightened strands for an ingenuous look. You complied, taking some from the front and securing it with a black bobby pin.

________

The huge clock displayed on the main wall of your lounge stated that you had less than an hour to get ready.

Panic arose in you, and you found yourself hastily making your way to your wardrobe and throwing out its contents on the floor. You subconsciously scolded yourself for mindlessly fantasizing and wasting your time, shaking your head whilst pulling out more clothes.