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It was an intrusive thought that he should never have entertained. Had he not, then the conniving gods wouldn't have heard his wish and they might have saved you both from this agonizing torture.
"Are you okay, sweetie?"
How different imagining doing this for you and actually doing it was! You've showed him how, you've shown him even more videos how, but his brain and his trembling fingers must have had their connection severed long before this tribulation.
"I can do it, dear." He said it with such confidence that he almost fooled himself.
His reflection on the mirror, on the other hand, indicated otherwise. The intensity of his expression contradicted the legion of tiny butterfly clips at the ends of the miniature braids you made. Now that his messy bangs were out of the way, the slightest contortion of his features, especially his gray eyes, were more noticeable than ever.
Perhaps you shouldn't have asked him to do this for you if it only served to stress him out this much. Steam might have radiated from his head at this point. You would've told him to stop if he wanted to, but it seemed that he was so hell-bent on fulfilling your request that any word you told him did not penetrate his mind at all.
His effort deserved all the accolades in the world, you thought, and now you couldn't suppress a smile from creeping onto your face.
"I-I'm almost... done..."
By some act of mercy, your lover did manage to finish braiding your hair. It was far from what he was used to seeing on you - shame on him, really - and he began to apologize profusely the moment he let go of your soft strands.
He wholly expected a sigh of disappointment from you; instead, he was met with a light chuckle.
"It's not that bad for a first-timer," you sweetly said as you turned to face him. "Thank you, love. It means a lot."
His face began to flush crimson at your words. The moment he started stammering nonsense again, your amused smile grew wider. Now there's the adorable Poe you knew and loved - especially better now given his current hairstyle.
You planted a soft kiss on his cheek, ending his incoherent rambling. "Thanks again. Maybe you should practice more, if you'd like?"
"I-I'd rather we don't subject ourselves to this anymore..."
"Alright, alright. Sorry for the trouble."
The key takeaway was, he believed, that creating such physical expressions of beauty were, unfortunately, beyond his own. He'd leave those things to you as he was perfectly content capturing your beauty in words.