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One night as on many, Gil and Lizel met in Lizel’s room to spend a quiet evening each doing their own thing. Lizel, already in pajamas, sat at the desk finishing a letter to His Majesty. Gil sat on the bed polishing a sword. He was just finishing when he felt the bed dip, and looking over his shoulder he asked, “What are you doing?”
Lizel was kneeling on the bed behind him, one hand half raised. His hair slipped over his neck as he tilted his head to return Gil’s gaze. “May I touch your hair?”
Gil frowned, but gave him permission. Lizel’s hand reached up and his fingertips touched Gil’s neck before sliding upward into his hair. Too short for any tangles, Lizel’s hand moved easily.
“It’s stiff,” Lizel noted. He scooted closer and put both hands in Gil’s hair.
“Hey.”
“This doesn’t block your vision?” Lizel asked, catching the one longer section of hair that hung over the right side of Gil’s face. It was long enough that it could probably be tucked behind his ear, but short enough that it probably wouldn’t stay there.
“I should ask you that.” Lizel’s hair was long all the way around.
“Not really,” Lizel answered. He continued stroking Gil’s head, twisting his fingers in nonsense patterns, occasionally curling his fingers to lightly scrape his nails across Gil’s scalp. It was like a massage and Gil found to his annoyance that he didn’t hate it.
“Do you like hair that much?” Gil asked, thinking of a certain long, red ponytail that Lizel had even moved to protect in a dungeon.
“Not in particular. You don’t have much to comb, but even so, doesn’t it feel good?”
Since it did, Gil didn’t answer. He couldn’t see Lizel’s face behind him, but he was fairly certain he was smiling anyway.
“The head is very important,” Lizel murmured conversationally. “The eyes, nose, ears, and mouth that we use to see, smell, hear, and taste the world, how we breath, all in one place, and the brain inside. And the neck.” Lizel traced down along the line of Gil’s jaw and then back up into his hair, tracing his hairline to the back of his neck. He placed his hands on Gil’s relaxed shoulders.
“It’s said that letting someone touch your hair is a sign of trust.”
By the time Gil looked around, Lizel was pulling the sheets back and climbing into bed. He sighed deeply, wondering what weird things this guy was thinking about now.
“I’m going to sleep. Will you stay?” Lizel asked.
“I’ll go back to my room,” Gil said, standing up. He put away his tools and reaching down brushed the stray hairs off Lizel’s forehead. Lizel squinted happily.
“Good night, Gil.”
“Yeah.”
Gil closed the door listening to Lizel’s contented sigh.