flochookie
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"Ever since they'd spent more time together after his return, she remembers, he never shied away from voicing out his clear fondness of her black hair, quite different from the awkward teenager he was back when they joined the military. It had become a normalcy for him to give her sincere compliments whenever she put her hair into exquisite styles and shapes for specific occasions, having found joy in growing them out and embracing her femininity.
Yet it's only now that he's dared to touch it. An electrifying shiver runs down her spine as his fingers soothe her hair in repeating, delicate flows, inspecting and feeling it as if it was the finest porcelain that he handled in his hand. With the precision of an artist painting over a blank canvas, he picks at single strands covering her face and hooks them behind the sensitive skin of her ear, his fingertips now brushing away and skimming over her cheekbone with only the ghost of a touch.
Her jaw quivers because she realizes that it isn't her hair that's the most precious thing in this tension-filled moment. It's her."
multichapter JK / smut, light angst