HairMature

I squeezed my eyes tight shut, attempting to win over the sleep  which I deserved. But the morning light would have none of it, the bright rays spilled through the window's flimsy shutters and flashed against my eyelids until I finally gave up and opened my eyes, squinting at the painfully brown room. 

I felt a warm, gentle tightness hanging over my hips, clutching at the loose fabric of my night shirt. 

I slowly sat up and turned around, a horrified expression had planted itself upon my face, 'Amria!' I exclaimed with a mixture of fury and... well.. I'm not sure what else.

The young prince woke up, rubbing his sleepy eyes with a droopy fist. He gave me a lazy, angelic smile, 'what?'

And with that dazed little grin, my anger evaporated faster than the speed of light. And in a way very unlike myself, I turned my head away from him slightly, pointing a embarrassed finger to Amria's thin arms, which were looped around my waist. 

They unlocked immediately, and Amria's cheeks and ears flushed a bright scarlet, 'sorry.'

'It's fine,' I puffed, flipping over the blanket and hopping off the bed, 'I think we should leave soon and look for the person who gave me the quest. We can try and find out who they are and what they want with you.' 

He nodded, his wavy hair bobbed up and down, 'Hopefully they'll remember who I am, too!'

'Let's hope so,' I agreed. I glanced over at the tangled mess that was Amria's hair. He had forgotten to brush it last night when he washed it, and now it was a complete haystack, 'want me to brush that for you?' I asked, indicating towards his head.

He gave me a small, slightly embarrassed smile and said, 'if you don't mind.'

I picked up the comb which lay on the bedside table, expecting there to be a women using it. Gently teasing it through his hair, he sat quietly without making a noise.

'Does it hurt?' I asked, wondering if he was just amazing at not showing pain or whether it was comfortable.  Amria shook his head, displacing the hair I'd carefully laid out so it was easier to brush.

I often brushed my sisters hair before she left home, her hair was about as long as Amria's - only blonde and very curly. It made me feel a little nostalgic sitting hear, brushing his hair. Only he wasn't a women. And his hair is brown. And he's smaller. 

Okay. So, nothing like brushing my sisters hair.

'Not really,' he told me, sitting still again.

I frowned, tugging out the matted hair, 'but it's really knotted.' I informed him in a womanish way, 'you shouldn't go to sleep with it this wet, you'll catch a cold and loose your hair.'

Amria let out a childish giggle, proving my theory(if I hadn't bathed with him last night) that it was highly probably he was a woman, 'you sound like my mother.'

I felt a little blush creep up to my cheeks, and I carried on brushing his hair quickly, 'well. I'm not your mother.'

Amria shrugged, 'I was thinking about getting it cut anyway.' 

I shook my head, and said absentmindedly, 'you shouldn't. It suits you long and it's really silky; it'd be a waste.'

He turned around to face me, an unreadable expression on his face, 'you think it suits me?'

'Yeah it does,' I smiled, tilting my head. 

Amria's eyes widened, then settled back into his skull, he smiled, 'maybe I wont just cut it yet, then.' 

The End

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