I'm half expecting him to have left, if truth be told. I feel guilty for thinking it, but part of me almost wonders if he'll be there when I look for him. But then my eyes land on him, wearing a new shirt, new shorts, and a dark scowl on his face.
“Hey there, stranger,” I say, trying to keep my thoughts from the dressing room safely tucked away in the back of my mind. Javier looks up at me, and I frown as I see how pale and strained the look on his face is as he looks into my eyes.
“You OK?”
“I'm fine.” He snaps, standing quickly and darting his eyes around the market square.
Why yes, these are new clothes; thanks so much for noticing.
But the thought is so alien and so bizarre to me, not to mention ridiculous that I shake my head and look away as I shove it back. What am I, some sort of crush-struck high-school girl?
I look up, trying to will the heat away from my face, only to find him staring at me. His look is softer than it just was a moment ago; “Sorry.”
I shrug like it’s nothing; like I haven't just been totally analyzing it in my head like a psycho; “No problem. Let's go.”
“Hang on,” He grabs my arm, and I turn to look at him. His eyes dart around again; “We need to change our look.”
I frown; “Right, hence the new clothes.”
“No I mean more than new clothes.”
He looks away, his whole body weirdly on alert as his eyes dart around the market. I’m about to open my mouth when he turns back and that grin of his finally makes an appearance; “So how attached are you to blonde?”
I wrinkle my nose at the box in Javier's hands; “Chestnut?”
The answer to his last question was “very”; I love my blonde hair. It’s always set me apart from my redheaded sisters, and while I do love my mother’s color on them, I like being the unique one. The idea of changing that in for something like brown is just depressing.
Javier rolls his eyes and bats his hand in this flamboyantly mimed way; “Oh, Chestnut is so in right now, honey”
I can feel myself grin in spite of myself.
“Feels good, doesn't it.”
I arch a brow at him in the bathroom mirror as he starts to squeeze the goop from the dye kit into my poor hair; “What does?”
“Smiling; not being so uptight all the time.”
My fist tightens around the towel clutched around my neck; “I am not uptight.”
“You should smile more often, princess.” He grins at me as he starts to work the dye into my hair, streaking it through my locks as he piles my hair up on top of my head. He works in silence, concentrating and actually doing a pretty good job of making sure he's getting my hair and not my forehead or ears. I'm quiet as his fingers slide through my hair, making sure he gets every inch of it before he finally stands back and nods towards the shower stall; “Alright, hop in.”
I stare at him through the mirror, waiting.
“What?” He frowns.
“Um, can you leave so I can take that shower?”
“Do I have to?”
He’s smirking, and I know he’s just trying to push my buttons, but I also know that it’s working.
…It’s working in ways it really shouldn’t be.
He winks at me once more before he steps out the door, closing it behind him.
I shower quickly, washing the dye goop out of my hair and trying not to think too hard about the fact that I’m this naked and exposed with a man like Javier standing right outside the door. I bite my lip as the hot water cascades over my skin, suddenly wondering why I didn’t lock the bathroom door before I stepped in here.
What if he comes in?
What if I WANT him to come in?
I shake the thought from my head as I shut the water off. Lordy, get a grip on yourself, girl.
I slip my panties on and wrap myself in a towel as streaks of dye along with my shameful, inappropriate thoughts of the tattooed criminal not four feet away in the other room swirl down the drain.
“I think I may have a new profession.” Javier grins at me from the bed when I open the bathroom door, nodding slowly as his eyes slide up and down my towel-clad body. I snort a laugh and turn to look at the new, dark-haired version of me in the bathroom mirror; it's honestly not terrible.
“Ok, your turn.” I say with a grin, curling my finger at Javier and and patting the chair we've dragged into the bathroom.
Javier frowns; “I don’t think chestnut’s my color.”
I smile slowly at him before I pick up a pair of scissors and nod at his long hair, pulled back; “Get in the chair, Javier.”
He glares at me, not moving
“Oh, attached to the ponytail are we? What are you, a samurai?”
He makes a face; “I like my hair long.”