jealousdogs
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He doesn’t know why he does it, says, “Let me,” and gestures for her to turn around. He thinks she’ll wave him off, tell him not to worry, that she can do it herself.
But she doesn’t.
She turns around so her back is to him, and he takes a step closer, reaching up to grab onto her braid, slowly sliding the hair tie off.
He puts it on his wrist, next to the one he already has on, and the plait almost falls apart on its own, but he can’t help putting his hands in her hair, undoing the braid and running his fingers through the strands gently.
“There you go,” he says quietly once her hair is loose around her shoulders.
She sighs and leans into him, her back against his chest, and tilts her head to rest on his shoulder.
Bookmarked by jealousdogs
14 May 2026
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He allows this moment to be special: Melissa and him, sitting side by side at a bar counter in wonky wooden stools, him playing around with the idea of drawing their chairs closer together, feeling the shift of his leg against hers, watching her face after.
He knows what he would find. Her cheeks would be pink, and her brows would be drawn and she would not be able to look at him, fully flustered.
The thought of it, the very thought of the sight of her in such a way makes him hungry.
Or, Frank has a crush on Mel. He does not think of himself as special.
Bookmarked by jealousdogs
04 May 2026