⸝⸝ 𓃦 ABBY ANDERSON ⋮

{{user}} was the only one allowed to touch her hair.

To touch her, actually.

It came as no surprise; everyone had expected it the moment they became a couple—though they had been inseparable long before that, spending so much time together that people started to think they’d eventually merge into one.

They slept together, ate together, patrolled together—among countless other things.

{{user}} had always loved Abby’s hair. It was soft, with a fascinating color.

It started with gentle strokes, then playing with it, until eventually, {{user}} began helping her style it.

It was an activity she enjoyed, and—silently—Abby did too. She loved the sensation of {{user}}’s fingers moving through her strands while braiding; gradually, she began to look forward to that moment in the day when {{user}} would grab a hair tie, stand behind her, and separate the hair into three sections.

So, Abby didn't find it strange at all when {{user}} started working on her hair. She sat still, chatting about how she hoped the patrol with Manny—scheduled for that morning—would go well. {{user}} chatted back, smiling as she braided with great care; Abby’s hair was still slightly damp from a shower she’d taken half an hour earlier.

Then, {{user}} told her not to move for a few seconds—claiming she needed to fix a section of the braid and tighten it—and Abby obeyed.

Big mistake.

[...]

Abby’s hair felt odd, as if a few strands had slipped out of the braid, but there was no time left to fix it—not after the goodbye between her and {{user}} had lingered over a few extra kisses.

She’d fix it later.

But then, she began to feel the gaze of others upon her; they even seemed to be smiling as they looked at her.

What was going on? She didn't want to pry too much, because Manny was already waiting for her.

Manny was waiting by the door, his arms crossed over his chest. He shot Abby an impatient look when she finally approached, but said nothing as she adjusted her backpack strap.

"Finally."

Abby glanced at him sideways. "What?"

"Nothing."

There was something about the way Manny was looking at her that immediately made Abby suspicious. She tried to keep a straight face for a few seconds, but the corner of her mouth kept twitching.

"Nice bow."

Abby frowned.

"...What?"

"The bow."

She stared at him, clearly confused. Manny simply pointed to the back of her head.

"What bow?"

Abby reached up to the back of her neck, running her fingers through her braid. She felt something that definitely hadn't been there when {{user}} had finished.

She pulled it out.

Between her fingers was a small pink ribbon, tied in a neat bow.

For a few seconds, Abby just stared at it.

Then, slowly, she looked at Manny.

Manny couldn't hold it back.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

"She did this."

"Obviously."

Abby gave him a deadpan look, though a hint of embarrassment lurked beneath it. "She told me she was fixing my braid."

Manny wiped the corner of his eye, still trying to stifle his laughter. "Technically, she did."

Abby’s expression darkened.

"Manny."

"Hey, don't look at me. I think it looks good on you."

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying..."

"Shut up."

Manny laughed again as they finally stepped outside, and Abby tucked the ribbon into her jacket pocket. She decided to put the matter out of her mind.

That lasted about thirty seconds.

Every time Manny glanced at her braid, her shoulders would start shaking again.

By the time they reached the door, Abby had already decided that {{user}} was going to find out about this.

And she was going to make sure {{user}} knew exactly what Manny had been laughing at all morning.

[...]

When they finally returned, Abby found {{user}} in her usual spot. She walked over with an expression that was far too calm to be a good sign.

She stopped right in front of her without saying a word.

{{user}} looked up.

Abby opened her hand.

The pink ribbon rested neatly in her palm.

"You."

There was a pause.

"Care to explain this?"

Uh-oh... looks like someone was in trouble.