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Mikleo was already in the bathtub when Sorey came in. His eyes were closed, silver eyelashes fluttering across pale cheeks that slowly bloomed to petal pink because of the steam. His neck was bared to the fullest, tantalizing and arched, as Mikleo tipped his head back, letting his long hair flow from the edge of the tub to the tiles below like moonlight traces.

Sorey stood there and breathed in lavender.

Exhaling, he thought with feeling: his lover was gorgeous.

He commanded his limbs to finally move again. Shedding his clothes silently, Sorey had an incredibly hard time taking his eyes off of the marbled beauty in front of him. Bare shoulders rose from the water as Mikleo moved to a sitting position instead of the half lying, and yet his hair was still half hanging from the tub, a curtain of wavy light blue that Sorey couldn’t wait to brush with his fingers.

Out of everything that had changed after he came back, getting used to Mikleo’s new hairstyle was the sweetest torture. It was easy accepting the broader shoulders, the taller frame, and the rougher palms. The older twinkle of Mikleo's eyes, too, took only a fortnight or so of talking about all of their feelings and memories and new lives to be embraced. Even his lips, his hugs, the slotting of their bodies making a perfect synchronization between the sheets under the night sky were all coming to him like second nature. As if they had been all in love like that all their lives.

But, his hair? Now, Sorey couldn’t stop being curious about that. So mesmerizing. 

He took a moment or two to just stare again even after every part of his clothing had been discarded messily to a corner of the room. He just couldn’t help it.

“Are you ever going to join me?” came a sudden singsong voice. Mikleo’s eyelids were still firmly shut, but a corner of his lips was tugged upwards.

Sorey was startled out of his daydream of soft locks spilled on sheets and pillows. “I’m sorry. It’s just— your hair,” he finished lamely.

Mikleo was turning to face him now, eyes huge and curious roaming Sorey’s body appreciatively, before settling to look at his flustered face with a raised eyebrow. “What of it?”

“So beautiful,” was his dreamy reply.

Mikleo’s other eyebrow rose to match the other one, but the flush high on his cheekbones were mostly out of Sorey’s shameless words instead of the warm water getting under his skin. “You have said that about a hundred times already, you know.”

“Well, yes, doesn’t make it any less true,” shrugged Sorey as he stepped in closer to the other, stopping just in front of the tub.

His lover chuckled softly, “It should have stopped being so embarrassing after the first five times you said that, but somehow it still makes me blush. You are so impossible, do you know this?”

“Wouldn’t have liked it any other way, would you?” he fired back cheekily.

Mikleo rolled his eyes fondly before tugging his hand. “Come on, you can wash my hair again.”

Sorey smiled, bending forward to take soft locks into his palm and kissing them. He was going to use the flower scented shampoo again that would make his stomach flutter whenever Mikleo passed by. “Can I wash your back too?”

“Yes, darling. Now get in.”

He was going to make Mikleo let him dry his hair, too. Then maybe he could practice braiding it again and put some ornaments Lailah gifted him last time. They had all day.