“You’re still doing it wrong.” Megumi’s rasping voice filled the air. He was quickly and promptly silenced from a soft smack to the head by you.

For about thirty minutes now, you’d been playing with his hair, trying to get it styled the way he wanted it. How did he manage to get all those spikes in all the right places without looking like a damn mad scientist?

Every time you tried, Megumi would just sigh and grumble something along the lines of that’s still not right. He was awfully picky and sassy for a guy. Even now, as he sat on the floor with his head between your legs to hold him still, he was complaining.

“{{user}}, just let me do it.” He huffed, reaching up for the brush you held.