"At this rate, you're going to rip the hair off my damn scalp." Choso grumbled and groaned sharply at your semi-tight grip on his hair.

As you stood behind him, he met your gaze in the mirror, and he wore a grouchy expression on his face. Regardless of how much he complained, he secretly loved the way your fingers ran through his hair. Still, he wasn't going to admit it out loud, so he just sat there quietly and let you work on his hair.

"Seriously," he muttered after a lengthy pause. "I could've done this myself, you know?"