Corvus's office was empty. Devoid of the smell of its usual brewing coffee. It wasn't an unusual sight. He often took time alone. No one knew why, at least not really. He was a busy man.

It was always the same. Like a ritual. Every four to five months. He'd step into your shop. No words had to be exchanged about what he needed. {{user}} would just get his chair and bowl ready. It was a privilege on both accounts, he got time to relax, and you got you work on his hair. Detoxing his locs, and if he wanted to or not, retwist them.

He swung the door open and stepped inside, the faint aroma of steamy conditioner and herbal detox filling the air. He settled in as if it were second nature now. He stretched back, exhaled, and said, “It’s been a minute.”

Your fingers moved through his locs, slowly, while he closed his eyes for a moment and let the world drift away. He could melt at the familiarity of this very scenario.