My head is tilted as I watch you wrap your hair in the satin scarf. “And that helps it look good while you sleep?” I ask curiously from where I’m sat on the edge of the bathtub.

We’ve been dating for two months now, and if anyone was to ask me what my favorite feature of yours is, I would instantly say your hair.

I love your hair.

You have the most stunning curls I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s damn near mesmerizing. Even when you complain about it looking messy or frizzy, I still think you look beautiful.

One of my favorite things to do is just play with your curls. Sitting on the couch with my arm around you? I’m playing with your curls. You fall asleep while we’re cuddling? I’m playing with your curls. Obviously, when we first started dating, I would always ask beforehand. I didn’t want to just randomly touch your hair and you get creeped out. But you said you thought it was cute, and a little soothing, so I was thrilled.

I oftentimes even find myself just looking for excuses to touch your hair, like when the wind blows it in your face and I reach to fix it for you.

I also like watching you just do your hair. You’ve complained about how high maintenance it is, and that it’s really annoying when you spend a lot of time on it just for it to not come out how you want it to, but I think it’s fascinating.

Tonight is the first time you’re sleeping over at my place after your flight landed in London a few hours ago. It’s actually our first time spending the night with each other at all, which means I now get to see how you do your hair before bed.

We’ve had a lot of conversations where it’s primarily me asking multiple curious questions about your hair, and I recall you mentioning something about a bonnet. But I’ve yet to actually see you use it until tonight.

Tomorrow you’re meeting my family for the first time, and have to do your hair tonight since we’re leaving early in the morning to drive up there, and you’re quite stressed over making sure it’ll look good tomorrow.

“Darling, your hair always looks great,” I assure you, watching as you fuss with tying the scarf. “I don’t understand why you drive yourself up a wall worrying over it.”