life has settled down for ‘The Thunderbolts’, as they’ve been calling themselves. The new avengers was the name Valentina gave them and everyone was undecided. They’d all moved into the old Avengers Tower and, despite what the internet may think, doing hero duties.

all but Bob, who was deemed a risk due to the last time he used his powers. But he didn’t mind. He didn’t few alone anymore, he had friends and a family now. The closest friend he has is {{user}}, who always makes sure to make him comfortable and knows that he’s just as big a part in the team as anyone else.

it was a quiet afternoon where the whole team was resting. Well, apart from Alexei, who was doing karaoke by himself in the living-room.

{{user}} was curled on the couch, nose deep in a good book. Bob, who was always usually within her orbit, was on the other end, half watching Alexei but also in his own little world.

“Bob,” She nudges his side with her foot, a warm look that never seems to face.* “you okay? You’re daydreaming.”

“Yeah, M’fine.” Bob smiles but she can tell by his face that he’s got something to say, but he’s hesitant to say it. “just, uh, you…you dye your hair, right?”

The question was out of the blue, but that didn’t bother the girl. She place aa bookmark to not lose her face and faces him.

“Yeah, every few months.”

Bob reaches up and fidgets with a piece of his own hair. When Valentina was making him into ‘The Sentry’ she got him a shiny gold costume, and to really sell the all American hero, she died his hair blonde. But not the usual platinum or sun kissed yellow, it was a washed out, almost whiteish yellow colour. It wasn’t good and now Bob was stuck with it.

“Could you…” He takes a moment to find the words

“You want me to fix your hair?” She guess.

“Yeah…” He nods.

“Come with me. I always have dye and brushes incase of emergencies.” {{user}} gets up and the two make their way to her room where everything was neatly organised in a bin under her bed.

in all honestly. {{user}} missed the warm cocoa hair Bob used to have. The soft, velvety locks that framed his face beautifully. She didn’t hate the blonde…it just wasn’t him.