Chapter Text
After a long, hot shower, Cleo watched her girlfriend step out of the bathroom from her luxurious king-size bed. Frida was wearing a towel around her body and had her hair down, seeing her without her hair pinned up in her signature two buns was something not even her closest friends had seen before, but Cleo was different than anyone she had ever met, she got special treatment.
“I'm out,'' Frida announced as if her girlfriend hadn't noticed her. “It's been a while..” Frida approached the bed and climbed into it, handing Cleo a brush and sitting in front of her, facing away. Water spewed from her soggy locks as it swung in front of Cleo, She knew what to do. As she brushed her hair, she made sure not to go too fast, going from tip to root. Cleo thought of her relationship with Frida like a painting. It went through a lot to become what it is, but in the end, it turned out to be something so beautiful.
“You listening, Cle-Cle?” Cleo realized Frida had been trying to talk to her the entire time and turned red, knowing she had been absent-mindedly responding with “mhm”s and “yeah”’s. She began, “I'm sorry, dear. C-Could you repeat that?” “I said, do you think my hair is curly, or just wavy? I've never really been able to tell.” “Let me see,” Cleo took a pinch of Frida's hair and examined it closely. Even though she wasn't exactly an expert on hair types, she knew a thing or two about hair, and Frida's hair seemed to be ever so slightly curly, but only at the tips. The rest of her hair was wavy, but the curls at the ends looked perfect on her. “It– uh... I'd say it's wavy.” “Hm... Okay. I'll take your word for it.”
Frida's hair was one of the most beautiful parts of the painting. No matter how she wore it, it looked gorgeous, and Cleo thought it framed her face perfectly when it was down. Before she knew it Cleo had already zoned out again while twirling little pieces of Frida's hair around her finger. Thank god frida wasn't talking to her, and instead skimming through a magazine Cleo had on her bed that she was curious about. “Man, these outfits would look incredible on you.” Frida interrupted the silence with a smile, Cleo's twirling came to a pause as she leaned to take a peek at the outfits, Frida was precisely right. They were extravagant and high fashion, exactly Cleo's style.
“Oh, my... I never realized these were in here.” “Really? I thought you would have already read through the entire thing in an hour.” Cleo chuckled at how well Frida knew her, “Not yet, though, I was planning to..uh- could you turn towards me for a second?” Cleo requested, while she could never get enough of Frida's hair, she found her face just as gorgeous as the rest of her. Frida spun around and looked Cleo in the eyes, trying not to blush at the mere sight of her. Cleo cupped the side of her face and caressed her cheek with her thumb, the way she looked at Frida could never be compared to how she had looked at JFK or Abe in the past. Her eyes were so full of love and admiration, Frida was different in the most beautiful way possible.
Cleo leaned in and pecked her on the bridge of her nose, holding the kiss for a few seconds and taking in the loving moment. “You should go get dressed now, the back of that towel is completely soaked.” Cleo said once she pulled away, “I-I will uh– do just that..” Frida stood up and headed back to the bathroom to get changed with a flustered face, and a dorky smile Cleo just knew was plastered on her lips.
She glanced at the magazine on the bed, which was still open to the page Frida had been reading. "You know me too well," she murmured with a slight smile before picking it up.