Frank Ocean Bleached Hair 소설 & 이야기

"I want the Targaryen type of blond. You can do that for me right?" "Of course! There is nothing that I can't do," he said confidently. I lost the count of hours I've been sitting here. All I know is, Cholo bleached my black hair and then added a blonde base color. Soaked it in my hair for a few hours. Rinsed and applied some treatment. I yawned. My back is already hurting and I feel numb. I looked up at the clock hanging against the wall. It's past 6 in the evening. I've been in here since one o'clock. Six hours have passed already.

And he would answer, " Not yet, sweetheart." The sun was everywhere, and I hated my dark hair for burning like a god forsaken road in the blazing sun. Ophelia's hair unlike mine didn't seem to give her any trouble under the sunlight. As serene and calm as ever, but with joy in her deep blue eyes, my sister looked like a beautiful siren atop that slide in her blue swimming suit,

"No one as pitiful as you doesn't merit nice things or good looks." That Lanaya's stunning blue-black hair glistened in the sunlight like a bird's wings was the one thing her foster mother detested. They slathered her head with bleach after they slashed her hair off to destroy what was left. The destruction lasted a whole year before one of the housekeepers offered assistance to Lanaya. She was an elderly Black woman and had brought some of the unique hair ointment her grandmother used. The housekeeper's grandma had Shaman training and developed her remedies. Lanaya's hair had become smooth and shining again with the help of the maid's treatment.

I heal, but it is still only very slowly. As soon as the water running off of me is no longer blood red, I wash my hair using the shampoo. I open the bottle and take a deep breath. I let out a low moan as the aroma was amazing. It doesn’t even bother me that it seems to be a male's shampoo. I use a small amount.

I say. She nods her head and begins to get to work. It seems like it takes forever for her to cut my hair down to the length that we want. As she takes inches off my hair, it seems to get lighter and lighter. No wonder people like their hair shorter. Once she is satisfied with my length, she moves back to Scarlett to wash her hair out. They talk of hair styles for her while washing out the color. When they return, I am shocked to see that Scarlett's hair is a dark, almost midnight blue. The color is amazing.

Soon, her skin and frame was visibly recovering, and even her white hair was now a healthy black! Massam blanched—not only was it almost impossible for her to regain her vigor, but Frank was so powerful that he restored her hair too! After all, her hair was white because the discipline of Princely Sword School was flawed and inflicted irreversible damage to the internal organs over time. It was something even modern medicine could not resolve, but Frank did it with just a lift of his finger! That was when Frank beckoned. "Come at me. Let's fight with our bare fists properly, and I won't use the power of the spiritron vein. How about that?"

Before I could argue again, she floated back downstairs toward Kael, leaving me alone to get ready. I wasted no time. I took a quick shower before brushing my teeth and hair. Cora had thoughtfully left a few hair ties for me. I divided my thick strawberry-blond hair into two sections and braided each one into a Dutch braid that rested halfway down my back. I always called my hair strawberry blond, although it actually carried quite a bit of pink mixed with strands of gold. Honestly... My hair was the one thing I was vain about. After using Pack Ravencrest's shampoo and conditioner the night before, it already looked shinier and fuller.

I sighed, pulling the bonnet off as I stared at my hair in the mirror. “Wow… Your hair is-” “Weird?off?” ”Beautiful.” Ahana, Hawaii and Nova said in unison. “I can swear it's almost glowing!” Ahana said, making me stare at her hair carefully, It was almost white, long and silky. “It may seem wierd to have this hair color but we will style it in a way the attention will not be on your hair, I can't believe I get to touch it.” Hawaii squealed as she started braiding my front hair.

Her hair was falling over her shoulders, long and bleached a vibrant golden color that reminded me of the vivid sunsets back home, when the sun turned the ocean a warm, pinkish orange as it dipped below the horizon. She was beautiful. I couldn't deny it. I wanted to reach out and touch the half-moon scar on her chest as she stood in front of me, slicing into my soul with her gaze. She had freckles all along her collarbones, surrounding the scar like constellations in a cloudless sky.

Blue eyes, blonde hair, and whispers in the wind. I woke with a start, unease clawing at my chest. This was the third night, the same dream haunting me. In the bathroom, I splashed water on my face, seeking solace in the coolness. As I lifted my gaze, the mirror revealed a shocker. My hair, once a rich blonde, now cascaded down my back in a river of white. Not gray, not silver, but a radiant, snowy hue, eerily reminiscent of the woman in my dream.