shit show ⋆ bo burnham

08.

her eyes were like fire.

they weren't red or anything. not particularly warm, either. they didn't glow, or, "appear to glow," whatever that means. but they had that same strange blend of familiar and miraculous — and they were always nice to look at after a long day.

"you've got a staring problem," y / n stated, grinning reassuringly towards bo in their reflection just a few feet away from them. her soft voice was acoustic as it bounced around the bathroom walls.

"you've got an ugly problem. can't help but look — poor thing." bo replied, feigning pity as he felt her hand gesture along his spine for better posture. he sat up straighter, noticing when her brows raised in amusement.

"you look like the white-washed portrait of jesus that every baby–boomer has hung up in their living room."

"i— wow." bo stated, his shocked expression quickly melting into one of mirth as he adjusted his position in his seat in front of the bathroom mirror. her giggle rang through his ears.

"i'm taking care of it, though — don't worry."

bo sat still, watching y / n slowly comb through his hair, trimming a few strands here and there as she worked. the bathroom wasn't too big, so she was closer than any professional hairdresser normally would be — but bo didn't mind. her warmth radiated onto his bare skin, sometimes sending a few shivers through his bones as she grazed across his back.

she'd glance up every now and then to meet his eyes that were already solely focused on her; admiring her. it had been a week since their rekindling, and besides dealing with work and an angry ex, the two of them managed to find ways to spend time together somewhere in between.

it was saturday now, and  y / n  was adamant on cleaning bo up.

"your hair is so long," she'd stated, looming at the toffee locks before catching bo's gaze.

"i booked a haircut but it keeps getting rescheduled. my barber must be sick or something." his hand was subconsciously raising to finger-comb through his overgrown strands, a bit self conscious from the abrupt attention put on his lack of self care.

"do you like it long?"

"not this long," he admitted, stifling a short chuckle. "not much i can do about it though."

y / n  was more than happy to do something about it, however.

and now here he sat, shirtless in front of the mirror in his small bathroom, watching her trim his hair slowly and carefully. she hadn't much of a background in cosmetology, especially within the hair styling field — but she was confident, and he trusted her.

it was staggering how much he trusted her.

trimmed pieces of hair would fall down his back or chest every so often, and she'd make an effort to lightly sweep it off his skin with her hand in a simple stroke. it always made him shiver in response.

they entertained the silence surrounding them with looming eyes and gentle smirks. she was the only person he'd find so much solace in silence with — it wasn't awkward in the slightest. in fact, it was ethereal. everything was almost cinematic; silently stunning. that is, until bo spoke, exposing his internal dialogue.

"will you go on a date with me?" he asked suddenly, his tone soft but words abrupt.  y / n  lowered the scissors then, catching his lingering gaze in the mirror. she exhaled a small laugh, her brows knitting together slightly.

"a date?"

bo's hopeful disposition deflated as he registered her words, not quite expecting that response as an answer. had he asked too soon?