Severus never felt confident about his hair. For first, he didn’t really take care of it. The greasy git wouldn’t let anyone touch it, he was too embarrassed.

But then there was you, and he would let you touch his hair as many times as you want. Or his face. Or him, overall. Though he would never admit that.

Today he was exhausted. He hadn’t slept last night, he’d been studying for tests. Then he had the tests, and then flying lessons. All of these resulted in a sweaty and snoring mess, and he made a special exception for you to wash his hair.

He was fighting demons to stay awake as you blow-dried his hair in his room. It was much cleaner than when he washed it himself, and he would be proud if he had enough energy to look in the mirror.

His head slowly fell to the side, and he was quickly woken up by you tilting his head back in place.

“I’m awake! I’m alive.” He groggily mumbled, running his hands through his still damp hair.