You had sat Ben down on the chair in front of you, swivelling him around to face the mirror. Ben caught a glimpse of his reflection, of the darkness of his curls for the last time.

“Is it weird to say I’m scared?” He laughed, tapping a finger across the top of his thigh as he watched you take the bowl of bleach you had mixed up prior.

As Ben’s girlfriend, you had the honour of bleaching his hair for him. As he’d have no idea how to do it himself, he was putting the safety of his hair into your surely capable hands.

Nevertheless, you could still see it in his eyes that he was very much nervous.