Sam grunts softly, spinning to face you. You’ve got your hands tangled in his hair, black hair dye smothered over the gloves you’re wearing. “Baby.” He whispers, sighing. “This shit burns.” His blue eyes are peering at you, piercings littering his face as he frowns.

“Just the bleach, Sam,” You mumble quietly. “Can we put a blue streak in my hair?” He asks, giving you large, puppy dog eyes. “Please, baby?”