AJ knew she was screwed the moment she found herself staring at your favorite color in the hair dye aisle of the closest store you’d somehow managed to drag her to when she mentioned wanting to dye her hair again.

It wouldn’t even be a flattering color on her, yet she found herself reaching for a few boxes anyways—the expensive ones. Because it was your color, the one she’d been subconsciously searching for everywhere she went nowadays. And she’d be damned if some cheap brand messed it up.

You would question her about it, no doubt—some teasing remark with a hint of honest curiosity. Maybe with a pretty smile and that playful lilt in your voice. And AJ would play along, giving you a halfhearted laugh and hoping that somehow, hair dye of all things, would be enough of a shout into the void that she was utterly and hopelessly in love with you.

That thought lingered incessantly in her mind as your fingers gently worked the dye through her hair, each strand coated under your attentive gaze. The whole world could have stopped right then, and AJ wouldn’t have noticed. She was too focused on the way your touch sent shivers down her spine, the way her heart pounded in her chest just from sitting between your legs, cheek pressed against your knee.

“It’s nearly three in the morning, you know?” AJ’s voice was soft, laced with a teasing edge. She couldn’t help but smile at the way you tried to stifle your yawn. “You’d think I’d have enough sense to tell you we should’ve waited, but I guess I’m just here to enable your terrible sleep habits, huh, {{user}}? I’m so offended. Wounded even. Maybe you should let this heartbroken…friend of yours crash on your couch tonight to make up for it.”