A Question of Hair.Mature

I wondered if I could muster up the courage to ask more about the beauty that was Elle. But decided not to, because if I did, then I know I'd have to leave. Because that girl was way more pretty than myself. Even her hair. And I love my hair. Her hair is better than my long, curly golden locks. And it's dark and boring and long. So how can it beat me?!

'Nothing.' I mumbled, looking away. Miles laughed and flicked my forehead; he jumped off the couch.

'Want a snack?'






Miles sighed, shook his head then walked into the kitchen anyway. He didn't know what I was mad about.

I followed the amused-looking man, and sat on the kitchen side, then blurted, 'was her hair nicer than mine?'

'What...?' He asked, stunned by my sudden question. He stared at me hard for a second, trying to find any trace that I was joking; he found none and bust out laughed. He laughed at me for about two minutes straight, tears streaming down his cheeks. I shifted uncomfortably on the side, pouting.

'No...' He panted inbetween chuckles, 'your hair.... it's much prettier. 'Cause it's so blonde it's golden,' he took a step closer to me and wrapped a strand around his long finger, 'and it's the perfect shape, so I can get my hands right into it,' he pushed his hands into my soft, silky mass of hair, 'so when I do this,' he kissed me lightly on the lips, 'it  just works perfectly.'

I stared at him for a couple of seconds, before saying -totally deadpan-, 'your too cheesy,' I paused, 'old man.' I snickered under my breath as a scowl crossed Mile's face.

He then glanced at the clock, 'time for you to go.'

'I thought I was sleeping over.' I cocked my head to the side.


'Well I told my parents and school that I was sleeping.'

'Roi!' He moaned, 'we agreed just the evening in the end!'

'Did we?' I smiled innocently.

'Is that why you brought your bag?'

'Yup.' I grinned.

'C'mon then, I'll show you the spare room.' He sighed, tugging my hand. Miles frowned when he saw the angry look cross my face, 'Roi, we talked about this. Your not old enough.'

'I'm plenty old enough!' I snapped, fury growing inside me, 'don't treat me like a little kid!'

'I'm not! I'd just prefer you didn't break the law!'

'No one would know!' I insisted, grabbing his forearm.

'No.' He said in a voice that finished the conversation. I sighed, giving up (for now.)

'Can I sleep in your bed anyway? Cross my heart hope to die I wont try anything funny.' I muttered as we trudged up the stairs.

He looked at my pleading face, as I tugged on his shirts sleeve like a toddler. He sighed and nodded with a small smile on his face. Miles took my bag from my hands and removed my hand from his sleeve, and into his own palm. And then I suddenly started to feel sleepy.

The End

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