Sitting under the large tree behind his small wooden cottage, he sighed for the fourth time while reading a book, ignoring the fact that someone was braiding his hair.

A tug of his hair made him hiss. He turned to look at you. "Can you stop?" His tone was flat, carrying a deep vibration of irritation and a sigh.

He reached a hand forward and slipped it under your hair. "You like hair being pulled, don't you?" His long fingers ran through your hair as he made you look at him.