Stella was fighting the battle that was her hair when he walked into her room with a shopping bag in hand.
"They look like an abandoned nest." Sharp chuckled to himself as he walked over and eyed Stella's hair. "Well not everyone is blessed enough to have golden hair that rival the sun, straight out of some fairy-tale." Stella snapped at him before continuing to try to run the hairbrush through her hair.
Den walked with lightning speed and was beside Stella in a flash. A strange warmth spread across his heart when Stella did not flinch or cringe away, and only stared at her hair as though they were her mortal enemy. Sharp laughed as he took the brush from her and said, "Let me. A brat like you will probably pull half of them out by the time you're done."
"I'm not a brat." Stella mumbled with a pout, but did not abject as she settled in her chair and began to lightly try to flex her broken hand, checking how much it had healed.
By the time Den was done, Stella was half-asleep. It felt so good. She opened her eyes and was shocked to see that Den had not only brushed her hair, but had tied them up in a french plaid. "I'll never get over how good you are with my hair. How did you learn to do it so good?" Stella mumbled, admiring her hair from all angles and Sharp only smiled in response as he kept the hair-brush away.
Helen had the same bushy black hair and used to have the same kind of problems. Though her's were a lot shorter and she had tons of maids to help her, that did not stop her from whining about her hair everytime she and Den were together. It was then that he had learnt how to do hair. He had learnt many hairstyles for curly and bushy hair and was always gentle, as he couldn't bear to see Helen in pain.
"Maybe I should hire you to be my hair-stylist. What do you say, Sharp?" Stella's voice brought him back to reality and Den mussed her hair with a laugh and said, "Are you sure you could afford my fees McCarteny?" Stella's eyes widened in horror and she slapped away her hand before smoothing out her hair and saying, "I'm not sure you'll make a good stylist. Ruining what you made a moment ago."
Den laughed as he sat down on her bed and pulled out his mobile and Stella picked up the shopping bag he had brought to go and change.
"I'm starting to think you wouldn't make such a good stylist after all Sharp." Stella spoke as she emerged from the bathroom wearing the clothes he had bought. Den looked up and his breath hitched for a moment. Stella was wearing an a-line light brown skirt that ended a few inches below her knees, and a flower-patterned blouse. She looked like a beauty that had come out of a painting, or one of his memories, to be more accurate.
Then Stella dropped her arms and the moment passed. Den saw that the blouse was two sizes too big for her and the skirt, that should have come upto her knees, fell down below them.