Bleached Hair Turned Orange Novels & Stories

I'll never put on another pair of those. I stepped into the shower, relaxing as the water rushed over my skin and soothed it. I rubbed the delicious smelling axe Apollo soap onto my body, taking it slow to admire every curve of my tall and slenderness. When I finished I took my time with my hair, placing a type of gel in it first before shampooing and rinsing. I made sure to be very delicate at washing my hair, not wanting to loose any dye. The gel would help hold the color in. Green was a hard color to get to stick to your hair. You had to be extra careful in the shower. You might step in with green hair and walk out with bleach blonde. When I had my hair washed and scalp massaged, I cut th

She then started to chant again. “It’s Blue.” I said. “Shush and watch.” She said. The smoke stayed blue for another minute before turning purple. After a few more minutes it turned red and then orange. The smoke started to flicker between purple and orange before it turned back to the milky white it had started at. She never mentioned orange. “What does orange mean?” I asked. “A black magic witch did this. Orange means that the witch used their blood in the spell. This is not good. I need to call my coven right away.” Najera said. She ran inside and came out with a phone in her hand.

With cautious steps, I tiptoed to the bathroom and softly closed the adorned door behind me. Turning on the faucet, I splashed water onto my face, then reached for a towel to dry off. When I glanced into the mirror, a scream escaped my lips. My once brown hair, flowing down to the middle of my back, had transformed into a cascade of white platinum, trailing down to my buttocks. My eyes, previously a deep brown, now blazed with a fiery orange intensity, akin to the brilliance of the sun. Freckles, once scattered across my face, had vanished entirely. My complexion had also undergone a remarkable change, evolving from pale white to a radiant olive hue, leaving my skin flawless and blemish-free

She exits the bathroom with Sadie in front of her, covering her eyes with both hands as she leads her to the mirror beside me. “I will hate you for this,” Sadie said while gritting her teeth. As Georgia lets go, Sadie blinks until her eyes are completely open. There are some changes in her hairstyle--the cut is layered, with the length of the front just below her chin. The hair is still thick and frizzy (maybe that’s just her hair works). But what left me in awe is the way the colors work on her hair. It’s very colorful-looking but they’re just shades of one color. There’s an orangey red, then normal orange, and light orange as well as light purple, normal purple, and magenta all scattered a

The sound of my stomach reminding me we had to move. Selova slipped backwards and we shifted, the paint from her fur stuck to my skin and in my hair. As I looked at the ends of my hair painted blue and pink I lost hope that it would all wash out. In the shower the water swirled around the drain in all the colors of the rainbow. As I had feared I could still see bright pink and blue in my hair after scrubbing it a half dozen times with shampoo. At which point I gave up and focused on trying to get it scrubbed off my body. That proved to be a far easier task, having got all but a few hints of color off my skin I called it a success and got out.

I explained, trailing off as I couldn't form any other sentence. He gave no reply, just a sharp glare at me, then stood up and disappeared into the bathroom. When he got out, I was about entering the bathroom when I noticed something rather... odd. "Uhm... Philip?" "What?" He snapped. "Why does the root of your hair look completely blonde-ish? Did you dye it?" He froze. I frowned. Normally, If a person's hair is dyed, the root will go back to the natural color when the dye starts to wash away. How was his hair root blonde?

I clear my throat, "Just let me wash your hair again, to make sure there's nothing in there." He shudders, but nods and allows me to walk closer again so I can lather his hair and massage it, trying to get everything out of there. The blood totally has stained his bleached hair. It was almost white this morning, but it's red right now. Not pink, but blood red. It's probably going to trigger him later, so I wash and wash for as long as I can, until Eros is making a purring sound and grabbing my waist like he's going to fall if he doesn't.

Strangely, the stylist’s hands were shaking as he began inspecting Tessa’s damaged hair. “All right, after looking at your hair, I think after bleaching and two weeks of treatment, it’ll go back to normal, or at least close to your original color. The more you wash it, the faster it comes back,” he said, his hands trembling as he reached for the products. “I’ll start now, okay?” Tessa could tell the guy sitting a few feet away was the reason the stylist was nervous. “Don’t you have work or something?” she asked, trying to keep her head still.

I groan, “I hate it when that happens.” When even I wash my hair, I always get a slight burning in my eyes afterward. Steeping out of the bathtub, I stood in front of the mirror naked drying my hair, Blonde is a nice color but now I think I should try ginger, it will surely complement my skin— which oddly looks pale. “What the—” a knock on the door interrupted me, “Mel— breakfast is ready, I don't want it to get cold, and— we need to talk,” “Ok... I'll be right there,” I muttered.

Like him. Fresh tears blur my vision. Why is it so difficult? Why does everything seem so hard? I hate this. “I don't want this anymore. I don't want him anymore.” Tears spill down my cheeks. Eventually, I let it be. I give up. Someday, it will come off. Forty minutes later, I rinse away the dye. Blonde hair stares back at me—dull, pale, and different. Exactly what I need. I hardly recognize myself, and neither will anyone else.