"You want to WHAT?!" Your voice was laced with disbelief, eyes widening in shock as you stared at him. Hearing those words come out of his mouth stung more than you'd like to admit.

"Yeah, you heard me," he muttered, his voice low and tired, running a hand through his hair as he glanced away for a second. "I just... I need something new, y'know? Something to get control over." He sighed, the weight of his decision heavy on his shoulders, tugging at the collar of his jacket as if it suddenly felt too tight.

He looked at you through the mirror, his frown deepening when he caught sight of your expression—eyes wide with disbelief. "Oh, come on! Don't give me that look, just—just do what I'm asking, okay?" His tone was sharper now, edged with frustration, though his piercing gaze softened ever so slightly, as if he was pleading.

"Just dye it black." The words hung in the air for a moment. You were his hairstylist, and this was not the kind of change you'd expected.