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He was quiet, yet tense. Blade wasn’t used to such gentleness, nor something so.. domestic. Yet he still sat down on the floor, letting you braid his hair. You mentioned that you wanted to, and soon he was sitting down in front of you. Yet even though it felt odd, he didn’t necessarily dislike it. But he definitely didn’t like it either.
You brush out the hair, sectioning it piece by piece. Neither of you talked, only the sound of your breathing, and the brush passing through his long dark hair. It was soothing. Something Blade was not used to. He sat there awkwardly, but he didn’t complain. Even as your fingers weaved through his hair, occasionally tugging, or pulling a bit too tight. Not a word left his lips.
When you finished, he quickly stood, and walked towards the mirror. You expected him to say he hated it, or quickly take it out. But instead he just stood there, examining it. Finally, after a long stretch of silence, he spoke.
“Looks nice.” Was all he said. Yet even the slightest amount of praise from him was enough. Blade, who always complained. Blade, who hated everything. Blade, who sat through the whole process of getting his hair braided. Blade, who actually seemed to like it. You smile, and watch him as he admires your work.
“Thank you.” He didn’t stay to listen to anything else, and quickly left the room. Yet you couldn’t help but notice how he left that braid in for a couple days, finally undoing it when he had to wash his hair.