As I stepped into my room, the door clicking softly behind me, I felt a rush of nerves wash over me. I had faced countless challenges in my life, missions that had tested every ounce of my capabilities, but preparing for a date with Aeliana brought a different kind of pressure and I had to make this count.
Glancing in the mirror, I noticed my short white hair, which usually felt like my trademark subtle, effortless, and slightly rebellious seemed a bit unruly today.
Should I style it, or let it tumble around my face haphazardly, giving off an air of carefree charm?
I approached the small, cluttered dresser, where various hair products jostled for space, alongside an array of shirts and trousers.
I settled on a couple of products a lightweight styling cream and a sea salt spray. With deft fingers, I worked the cream through my hair, giving it a tousled but intentional look, defined yet soft.
