Novel & Cerita Bleed Marks Hair

I gently lift her heavy, dark hair, piling it atop her head so I can reach the nape. The cloth falls from my hand, splashing back into the basin. There, right at the base of her skull, hidden by her hairline, is a mark. I blink, thinking it’s a bruise. A contusion from the blow she took. But it’s too defined. The lines are too sharp. I lean closer, my heart beginning to hammer a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I trace it with a trembling finger. The skin isn't raised like a scar or swollen like an injury. It’s flat. Black. Like ink that has been burned into the flesh from the inside out.

"The color is supposed to be stubborn because you didn't apply oil. You see. The Color wasn't very stubborn on me because I applied oil" A growl left from his mouth as she began to rub his hair dry. "It's okay. Maybe tomorrow another head bath might help. Don't fret". "Don't fret. My blond hair was literally bleached". "Don't exaggerate. The color will go tomorrow ". " If it doesn't you'll be dead, finish Adhri". " How was it my mistake ". " I don't know but you'll work on it". He grunted as she pouted at him. " I'm still angry at you. Don't forget you a week late. a week late".

A little scream of astonishment came out of my mouth when I saw the state I was in. My face was swollen, there were heavy dark circles around my eyes, there were dark marks on my chin and neck as if made by hickeys, and there were intricate marker drawings on my skin as if I had decided to play scribble on my own arms, but nothing compared to the state of my hair was in. My once-long strands of hair were disheveled and short at my neck!

I stared at my reflection, watching as my once-long locks transformed into a sleek, shoulder-length bob. Next, dipping the brush into the vibrant pink dye, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement wash over me. I carefully painted the dye onto the tips of my hair, watching as the pigment spread evenly across each strand. As I worked, I felt myself transported back to my childhood days, when playing dress-up and trying out different hairstyles was a daily occurrence. This feeling only intensified as I examined my reflection in the mirror, admiring how the pink gradients seemed to dance along the edges of my blonde hair.

I grab a piece of bread, but before I can take a bite, Priscilla’s gaze sharpens, fixating on my hair. “Hold still,” she murmurs, stepping closer. Before I can react, she gently plucks a strand from my head and holds it up. “What?” I ask, confused. She twirls the strand between her fingers, her brows furrowing. “You’ve got a white streak coming in.” I freeze. “What?” She holds it out for me to see. It’s unmistakable—a stark silver strand mixed among my blonde locks. "There's more...it's concentrated in the areas above your left ear."

It's in the ground and the water comes from an underground spring so it's a milky blue color and feels smooth as silk. I use a fluffy towel to dry my skin and move to stand in front of the mirror. I pull my hair to the side so I can look at the mark. It's no longer bloody and is already starting to heal. My gaze wanders down and I shake my head a little at the red-purple splotches scattered across my chest and down my stomach. "Okay next time we make out, I'm giving you a dozen of these," I say, pulling on my nightgown and walking into the room.

I blinked. “A scent?” “Yes.” “That’s ridiculous.” “Perhaps.” “But people believe it.” I frowned. “What kind of scent?” Lyra’s gaze sharpened slightly. “Marked.” The word made my stomach tighten. “Marked how?” “Like someone has already claimed you.” My eyes stayed fixed on her. “That doesn’t make any sense.” No, she said without rushing. That wasn’t how it worked

He sat and she got back to work getting the splinter out of his skull. Then she went into the bathroom and used the box of color on her blond hair. She’d had her hair many colors in the past, all variations of blond. This had been the lightest she’d gone and to be honest, it had been nothing but a pain since she’d bleached it. She’d thought it would make her look better on camera, but it had only ended up washing out her skin tone. Plus, the upkeep was more than she wanted, not to mention how impossible it was to make it look shiny for the cameras. She had multiple bottles of oils she had to use just to keep her ends from breaking.

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.

Stormie- Six hours and many dyes later, the color couldn’t be concealed. They have tried to bleach my hair to the point that it should be fried by now, but nothing worked. I was as baffled as them about my hair, but aside from shaving my head, nothing could be done.