the sharp smell of chemicals filled carl’s bathroom, the hum of the overhead fan the only sound as he snapped on a pair of plastic gloves. you sat on the edge of the bathtub, towel draped over your shoulders, hair damp and messy from the quick rinse earlier.

“you really trust me with this?” carl asked, smirking as he glanced at the box of deep blue dye in his hand.

you shrugged, a grin tugging at your lips. “not really, but it’s too late to back out now.”

he rolled his eye, stepping closer. “you’re lucky i’m nice, or i’d leave you looking like a smurf.”

you chuckled, leaning forward as he started parting your hair. his fingers were careful, almost gentle, as he applied the dye, the faint rustle of the gloves the only sound between you for a moment.

“you’ve done this before, haven’t you?” you teased.

carl huffed a quiet laugh. “nah, just good at winging it.” he paused, then added, “besides, if it turns out bad, we’ll match. disaster twins.”

your laughter filled the room, and carl felt a pang in his chest he didn’t want to think too hard about.

as he worked, the silence between you grew heavier, more charged. his fingers brushed against your scalp, and you swore you caught him glancing at you when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

“you’re quiet,” you said, breaking the tension.

“just… concentrating,” he replied quickly, but there was a faint pink tint creeping up his neck.

you smirked. “uh-huh, sure.”

carl pulled back, snapping off the gloves. “done. now we wait.”

as you leaned back against the tub, you couldn’t help but smile at him, his sleeves pushed up, hair slightly messy from leaning over. “you’re not bad at this, y’know.”

he shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “yeah, well… maybe i like helping you out.” his voice was softer, hesitant, but he didn’t let himself linger, busying himself with cleaning up the counter.

you didn’t miss the way his hands trembled slightly or the way his eye flicked toward you every few seconds.