Lowlights On Dark Brown Hair Novels & Stories

CHAPTER 83 LOU Days after going back here to Laguna, I decided to dye my hair again. I dyed my hair in different colors from the past months. My current hair color is faded blue. This is supposedly a vibrant one but I don’t know why this is the outcome of the hair color. I think the color pigment is not that good. I went inside of my comfort room to see my remaining colors and my smile widened as I saw the ash gray. What a timing because the shooting will be tomorrow.

Aria The girl in front of me surprisingly doesn't look as vicious as I imagined. From here, I can tell that her hair that's supposed to be a dark shade of blonde, has been dirtied to the point, it looks more like muddy brown. She's braided it into two rough braids that fall behind her shoulders. Her wide eyes are a shade of brown that twinkle in the light coming from the door. But other than that, the scowl on her face is the only thing that spoils her features.

The boys had full heads of hair, it was a pain in the ass to cut it all the time because it fell in their eyes, but it grew like weed on their heads- Kaitlyn’s didn’t, but she had the most beautiful ash-blonde color with caramel highlights that sparkled under the sun.

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.

When he's done, he tucks the strands behind my ears. "What color is it naturally?" he asks. I reach up and touch the ends of my hair. It tends to curl when it gets wet. "Brown," I tell him. "Dark brown." "I thought so." I manage a wry smile. "I know I need to touch up my roots." But he shakes his head. "I can tell because of your eyes." I look down at my feet. "Plenty of blondes have brown eyes." "Not that dark." He puts a finger beneath my chin and lifts my face. It's probably just an effect of the fluorescent patio lights, but his blue eyes look brighter than usual.

They worked in silence, the only sound the gentle rustling of hair against fabric and the occasional splash of water. Once her hair was thoroughly detangled, the maids began the delicate process of fixing it. They wove the strands together, creating an intricate ombre effect that blended seamlessly from dark ebony at the roots to a soft, silvery white at the tips. The final touch was a loose braid that hung down her back, its ends tied with a simple ribbon. The effect was stunning—her hair seemed to shimmer with its own inner light, complementing her pale skin and accentuating the sharp angles of her face.

No – I couldn’t let myself think of her dimples, the one in her chin and the one on her right cheek, the one that popped into her smooth, brown skin when she smiled. I couldn’t think of the feel of her dark hair, such a dark shade of brown that it was almost black, with its light toned ombre blurring the ends of her hair into a wispy blonde. Sometimes she’d dye it other colours, too, bold red or pastel pink or sea blue, like a mermaid. It curled between my fingers, brushing across my palms and tickling my wrists. The hunger began to wane, and the burn behind my eyes and nose returned. I willed the tears to come, and the old memories, forced into the dustiest corner of my mind, flooded forth

he answered and lowered his head. I held both his shoulders which made him look at me. I stared at his green eyes and spoke, “There must be more than that. The human brain is funny, you cannot know what it knows or not. Close your eyes and think! Try to recall; you saw something more, something specific, something helpful.” “He… He’s got gray-colored hair?” He said, quite unsure. “Gray-colored, you said gray-colored. What are his hair roots?” “I think it’s brown?”

“Don’t blame me if I screw up your hair.” “And I want to change my hair color.” I tell him. Auburn hair just attracts too much attention. “Are you changing it back to black?” He asks. “Auburn hair looks good on you but I kind of miss that dark mysterious look of yours.” “Hmm, I don’t know.” I say, I don’t quite like the idea of going back to being Jasmine just yet. Although I’m not clinging to being Hope any longer. “How about dark brown or something?”