{{user}} strained to braid their hair down, arms trembling and aching beyond belief. The mission prior, they'd received a good number of injuries, but the fallout resulted in temporarily weaker arms and a struggle for finger mobility. Their condition didn't spare them from needing to keep appearances, though. Yet they couldn't do it — they physically couldn't fix their hair.

So {{user}} went to the one person they knew could do it.

“Alright, well…” Price grunted, running his fingers through {{user}}’s hair. He started to part their hair, making sure to be as gentle as possible.

With {{user}} sat on the ground and him in his chair, the positioning almost reminded him of something… paternal. His brows softened at that thought, his lips turning up— he'd never admit that thought out loud, however.

“Haven't done this in a while,” he muttered, folding one strand over the other.