'Hmm I didn't know you're a natural blond.' You murmured into freshly washed hair you, only moments ago, had been carding your fingers through. You had noticed the lighter roots when you were brushing it and placed several small kisses there.
You had expected a laugh. Or maybe a shrug. Or maybe even an explanation. What you hadn't expected was her shoulders to tense and a small choked sob escape her mouth.
'Hey. I'm sorry. I'm sorry Lena. I shouldn't have brought it up.' You instantly had an armful of soft curves and fierce arms which shook with her cries.
'Shh hey. It's okay. It's okay.' You rubbed patterns on her back as you held her.
Her only response to your gentle muttering was her squeezing tighter and burrowing her head into your collarbone.
You sat there for what felt like forever, hating yourself for saddening your girlfriend, even if you had no idea where it had came from.
Once she had calmed down slightly, she looked up at you and pulled away, still in your arms but her head wasn't on your neck.
Your heart broke at the sight of piercing green eyes filled with tears.
'I'm sorry.' She whispered brokenly.
'Hey. Hey. No need to apologise. I should be the one to apologise. I upset you. I'm sorry.' You gently spoke back.
'You- you didn't upset me.'
'Okay.' You knew from past experiences not to push just yet. To let Lena process her emotions and talk about them when she wants to.
'It- you know the Luthor's all had black hair?' Your thoughts stumbled with the change of subject but you nodded anyway.
'Well, when I first arrived, Lillian took one look at my blond hair and sent me to a salon to get it fixed.'
'Fixed?'
'To fit the family image. She made me dye my hair black every time my roots started to show and I guess I got into the habit of always dying it.'
'Lena... that's horrible. I'm so sorry she did that.'
'My mother's hair was blond. It's one of the things I remember about her. We had the same hair colour. Even subconsciously Lillian tore that away from me.' You quietly caught another tear that escaped.
'Because of this whole lockdown thing I guess I forgot to dye it.' She mumbled into your shoulder.
'I think you'd look incredibly beautiful with blond hair.' You tucked her further into your body and held her tight.
'Really?' Was breathed into your skin.
'Definitely.' You kissed her hairline.
Over the next few weeks, Lena's roots grew out more and more. She let them, not bothering to dye her hair black. And when the lockdown was finally lifted and Lena first went out with completely bond hair, the press certainly had a field day.
When her hair was still the lightest colour of yellow and framed her face in loose curls, resting down the back of the white dress she was wearing, you thought she was the prettiest bride you had ever seen (but maybe you were bias because she was your bride and she was walking down the aisle with the intent to marry you.)
When that same hair was tickling your nose as you swayed to the music, her body flush against yours, you whispered into your wife's (wife's!!!) ear that she was the love of your life.
And when, after hours and hours of intense pain, you watched your wife place a gentle, teary kiss onto the small wisps of blond hair on your babies head, you loved Lena Luthor's natural hair colour more than anything else in the world.
