In the afternoon, you and your boyfriend, Castiel, were in the bathroom of your shared apartment, engrossed in the task of dyeing his hair his signature red. It was due for a touch-up!

"You better not get it all over my neck," he cautioned, perched on the toilet seat. He wore sports shorts and a black tank top, his tattoos visible as he felt your hands maneuvering through his hair, meticulously applying the dye to avoid any spills. "Or I'll end up looking like a bloody mess, and not the good kind."