running into him | j.jk.

1.

You groan as you attempt to slowly squeeze your way into your car. Luck is not on your side today as you see the car next to you is parked way too close, there's no way your thicc ass is fitting into this tiny gap.

"Worst fucking parking spot ever!" You bark in exasperation, cursing both at your bad luck and at the ignorant asshole who parked his car so close to yours. You've half a mind to call security and get this person's address, but you're already way too late for your hair appointment.

You get in through the passenger side and crawl your way to the driver's seat, curse words falling from your mouth like raindrops on a heavy monsoon night. When you're finally strapped into place, you close your eyes and do the 1-10 count that always helps you stow your anger away.

The drive to the hair salon isn't much better, LA traffic erasing any chances of you reaching in time for your appointment. You hate being late to anything, even if it's a stupid hair styling appointment. You keep doing your 1-10 count and listening to calming songs in an effort to drown out the loud honking of the cars around you.

When you finally reach the salon, you're frustrated and in desperate need of some pampering. Even though originally you just intended to get a hair cut, you decide to go all out and schedule a hair wash, haircut and even hair colour change.

Not knowing whether you'll regret your decision later or not, you take a determined breath and make your way inside. Your favourite stylist, Linda, greets you warmly as soon as she spots your familiar face.

"My God Y/N, your hair has grown quite a bit!" She exclaims, immediately running her hands through your long and thick trenches.

You had to admit, you felt like a proud mother at that moment. Your genes had blessed you with absolutely gorgeous dark brown hair, which seemed to shimmer golden under good lighting. Thick, voluminous, and straight, your hair was your source of pride and confidence. Anytime you felt like you needed to make a statement, you'd just let your hair down and that would get the job done.

But recently, it had grown a bit too long for your liking. Shampooing and drying it seemed to take forever and with your new job laying you on a time crunch, there just wasn't enough time to take care of it.

"Thanks Linda, but I'd like you to chop off like half of this." You answered lightly, settling into the familiar chair where you'd gotten countless cuttings from Linda.

From the answering gasp, you figured Linda wasn't happy with that decision.

"But doll, you've grown it for a whole year now. And it looks absolutely gorgeous, how can I cut so much off?"

"Just donate it or something. I'm sure you are connected to some facility like that." You answer her dismissively, too frustrated still to actually talk her into this. It was weird how many times you'd had to convince your own damned hairdresser to actually cut your hair.

"Hm, that's actually a really good idea. We recently teamed up with a cancer facility where we donate the cut-up hair of some clients for patients under chemo."

Your heart immediately softened upon hearing that, and you just nodded in return. 

"Anyway, I'll send someone to wash your hair first. Then we can discuss the cut you want to go for, I'll finish up with another client by then."

You nodded in return, too sombre to actually respond with words. When Linda left, you closed your eyes for a few seconds and attempted to free your mind of thoughts.

A gentle touch to your shoulder broke your reverie, jolting you back into awareness. You looked up to see a most gorgeous human being looking down at you.

"Hi, I'm here to wash your hair." He said as a simple greeting, smiling gently at you.