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Summary
His hair is unspun silk.
Thick waves of black sea Rey wants to get lost in. It's not a desire that comes frequently.
Celebrities can be spoiled and demanding, and Kylo Ren is as mercurial as one can get. But he sits obediently under her fingertips. Pliant. She wonders if there’s a hidden part of him that could be as supple as his tresses.
Hair reflects the personality, after all.
"Ready, sir," she says, combing a last strand into place with shaky fingers. Time is up and the Oscars await.
His dark eyes meet hers in the mirror.