방탄소년단
His large hand pressed against her back, bringing her wilted figure up to his, chest to chest.
"You're the girl that other guys wish for." Jungkook's lips sketched themselves over her boiling cheek, leading up to her ear. "I'm other guys, by...
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Devora's head was slightly nebulous when dying Jungkook's hair.
She had never colored anyone's hair before, and though it did seem easy when watching videos of other people doing it — when it came to performing it on Jungkook's real hair, Devora was unnerved.
Especially with the style Jungkook wanted.
He wanted the black tips of his strands to be dyed a light blue.
Almost like a turquoise, however, a bit of a darker shade.
It was a charming color that he wanted, and a unique appearance that she hadn't seen most people wear on their hair before.
"Is tin foil really needed for this?" Devora questioned herself, holding a clump of his hair in one hand, folding the paper up in his enclosed hair.
"I think so?" Jungkook hummed, fingers tangled above his lap. "I don't know, usually when I dye my hair, the other members help me... or I just do it myself." He told her, chuckling at the thought.
Her eyebrows pressed, convulsing a laugh. "You dyed your hair by yourself before? Why do I feel like that would be catastrophic?" She gave a curved smile.
"It wasn't that bad." He deprecated, shaking his head.
"Hey, don't move. Unless you want me to dye your eyebrow blue." Devora advised, moving his head at a proper angle with her clean hand.
He disregarded her advice. "I dyed part of my hair red, and the other half was blond."
"You like dying your hair with interesting combos, don't you?" She acknowledged from his recollection, coloring his strands like she was painting on a canvas.
"Well, I don't know I just thought it would look cool, and I like doing things that others won't think of, you know?"
"Oh, it's not a bad thing. I like it," Devora admitted, mirth. "And the fact that you're able to just go out and do it, proves you don't wait for anybody's validation. I think that's cool on its own." She told him, beaming a smile.
"I guess you're right, I never saw it that way before."
Devora tried to neglect that intoxicating fragrance exuding from the hair dye, fuming the bathroom with a distinct sharp odor.
It felt like she had just walked into a salon, being hit with the pungent smell of dye, hurling into her nose, scrunching it in discomfort.
It reminded her of all the times she and her cousin would dye their hair with each other in their parent's bathroom. Running to the nearest drug store with an impulse to have different hair colors.
Devora would keep darker tones, while her cousin chose the brighter more exuberant colors.
She always liked standing out in crowds, even if that meant having ocherous hair.
