Romans & histoires Slanted Hairline

How did he manage to get those wings in that little car? The last man was obviously the leader. He stood a little in front of the group and held his chin at an angle which clearly broadcasted his disdain; either for us or his task. I wouldn't be sure which it was until we talked to him. His hair began as bright, platinum blond at the roots; a color so light as to almost be colorless. Then it slowly darkened, shifting through golden tones like a lion's mane; warming deliciously to caramel and then to chocolate until it hardened into onyx at the tips. Those stark ends shifted like wet ink over the shine of his armor.

Skylar and I knew very well our words of assurance were wasted on her, but we still tried. "You look fabulous, woman!" Skylar said. "And this edgy asymmetric haircut suits you really well. So badass and beautiful at the same time," I added. She was convinced for a moment before finding something else to complain about. "But this neck is plunging too deep, don't you think?" She asked me. "It's called a plunging neckline. Hello? You wanted a sexy 'plunging' neckline dress, remember?!" She did not care about going traditional when shopping for a dress.

It’s quite thin on top, but the bottom makes up for it. He looks like a sleeping cherub, now that she thinks about it. Except his hair isn’t curly in the least. It’s straight and smooth, quite floppy if she may add. The image is making her mentally laugh. She’s picturing a weirdly coherent headbang with that kind of hair. She lets out a soft snort.

Just as I was about to say something sarcastic in response, she suddenly sucked in a sharp breath and her eyes widened. My brows furrowed in concern. “What's wrong?” “Your hair,” she whispered in disbelief. Self-consciously, I ran my fingers through the silken strands. “What's wrong with my hair?” She drew closer to me and her hand reached out to touch my hair. “There are silver strands that weren't there before.” I breathed a sigh of relief. My thought was that something bad had happened to damage the way it looked forever. “It's nothing. My wolf has these same silver streaks. How come you didn't notice during the fight?”

I motion for Blake to turn around and I massage the product into his scalp. "Oh babe...that's nice" I see his body relax as I rub his scalp, foaming up the shampoo through this thick hair. I rub his temples and side burns, combing his hair behind his ears. Blake tilts his head back to get the water, which rinses the shampoo onto me. I comb his hair back with my fingers away from his face. He turns around to face me. He looks so handsome with his hair slicked by like this and I have sudden flashes of imaginations of Blake in a suit with his hair slicked back. His jawline looks extra chiseled with his hair like this.

“I’ve seen that look before. Wolves who want to prove themselves so badly, they bleed themselves out to do it.” I looked down, ashamed. Her voice softened. “Rest matters too. Strength without balance is just another kind of weakness.” I nodded, though the words twisted inside me. Then Sloane leaned back, her gaze lingering. “Your hair…” My head jerked up. “What about it?” She studied me a long moment, her expression unreadable. “It’s changing again. A shade lighter at the ends. Happens when power stirs. When the wolf pushes closer.” My chest tightened. “So you’re saying—”

“Yeah, definitely not my sister being my mate. That’s just a big, disgusting no.” “Exactly,” she grins. I step into the shower, careful to put my long, bone, straight blonde hair into a shower cap. I'm not touching it today. Tomorrow, it’s getting done properly. I’m thinking lowlights this time. My hair is damn near platinum naturally, Sloane and I look identical unless you really pay attention. I want something subtle to separate us. By the time I step out and look in the mirror… Yeah. I see it. We don’t look like typical she-wolves. Not at all. We’re curvy. Soft in places wolves usually aren’t.

She raised her delicate hand to her face and shoved all her hair away, there was so much of them. Then I noticed something, something I had never seen before. There was a tiny cut right below her hairline on the nape of her neck. It looked like an incision as if someone had specifically cut her with care. Someone had fucking chipped her.

Maude had a high nose bridge and thin lips, while Sabina was had a round nose and fuller lips. "A tailed hair?" Azalea asked, without a full understanding of what Giselle had pointed out. "See both Maude's and Sabina's hair, they are both penciled and of unequal length at the top, like an horse tail. While yours are always straight like you cut them regularly or something," she noted, and turned to face the two cousins who nodded in agreement to her observation. "I do, cut it everytime," she answered truthfully, running her hand along the curled lines of her thick hair.