Work Text:
The storm howls outside, the wind rattling against Jim's bedroom windows. The lights are dim; the fire crackles in the other room, creating a relaxing ambiance in your shared space. His room is cozy, wood carvings on small shelves along with various novels and pictures you've taken together sit on his bedside table along with his knife and the choppy carvings you made when he taught you how to whittle.
You lay on your back, resting your eyes while Jim reads silently across from you. One hand holds his book, while his other is outstretched to meet your hand, tracing a pattern onto your palm. You open your eyes, turning your body gently to face him, quietly observing his face as his eyes flick across the page. He breaks away from the page to look back at you, gently smiling. “See something you like?” he grins as he asks, a pink glow blossoming on his cheeks. A stray hair falls in front of his face; you sit up and move to push it back behind his ear. "Maybe," you say, as you giggle and smile back, now sitting alongside him.
You both stare at one another a little longer before Jim straightens his back out and adjusts the loose strands again, running a hand through his hair. You inch closer to him, gently resting your head on his back shoulder. He's messed with his hair in the past, but it seems to be bothering him a bit more than usual. You think more about this before an idea comes to mind. "Jim?" you say softly, moving your hands to rest on his shoulders, your head resting near his neck. “Yes, my love?” he responded in a coy voice. “Have you ever had your hair braided?” He pauses for a second before taking a quick breath and responding. “No, or at least not recently. I've tried to learn, but I'm not very good at doing it myself. Do you know how to braid hair?” “Yes…" you trail off before speaking again. “Can I braid yours? It may not be very good but—" You're about to go on a tangent before Jim interrupts. “Baby, I'll love whatever you do, a'ight? Now go ahead.”
"Okay…" you say shyly, moving to run your hands through his lightly colored hair. He sighs softly, melting into your touch, a small hum coming from his mouth as your fingertips gently massage his head. You take your time, making sure to brush through the hair as gently as you can, then dividing the strands to begin your braid. Jim is patient and quiet, humming a melody from his childhood while reading through his book. When you're done, you sit back, waiting for his response. He moves his hands up to feel it, smiling to himself, tracing the interwoven strands while looking back at you.
He stands up to set his book on the nightstand and pulls you from the bed into a gentle hug. You both laugh softly as you sway together before he leans down to give you a small peck. “Thank you, Love." he says while holding you in his arms, almost shielding you from any harm that would somehow find you. "You're welcome." you respond, taking in the moment. Maybe being snowed in with him wasn't as bad as you thought.
You could get used to this.