chapter four (final)

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"You're gonna break my damn neck!" Jimin complained, eyes shutting as you moved his head closer to the shower's stream.

"Shh," You giggled, fingers gingerly rinsing your boyfriend's head.

Jimin was fully clothed, head thrown over the tub's edge, insisting that he remain dry as you washed the orange dye from his hair.

Just the other day you had MTV playing in the background as Grams and you were making cookies when the video for The Flaming Lips' She Don't Use Jelly came on. You hadn't heard the song in ages; Hoseok used to belt the nonsensical lyrics religiously on early morning bus rides to high school. But more importantly, you had never seen the music video and became consumed by the lead singer's tangerine-colored hair.

It quickly became a topic of conversation between you and Jimin, nudging a shoulder into his side anytime you'd pass by an orange car or a shelf of hair dye. A week of your less-than-subtle teasing had gone by when he finally begrudgingly agreed to dye his hair orange. You were beyond excited, even if he had only agreed to get you to finally shut up.

So here the two of you were, kneeled on the tile floor of your bathroom, random splotches of bleach and dye on your shirts, the sound of The Smashing Pumpkin's latest CD coming from your room.

"You should be grateful you have a girlfriend that's willing to dye your hair for free."

"Is that what you're doing? I thought you were trying to drown me."

"Alright, you big baby," You rolled your eyes, reaching over him to turn off the shower head. "I'm done."

"Pass me a towel, please?"

His eyes were scrunched shut, hand flailing about for the towel rack aimlessly. Chuckling, you passed the wet-haired boy a towel, sitting back on your heels as you watched him pat his face dry.

"Here, let me get your hair." You offered, grabbing the towel back from his face and onto his head, careful to be gentle as you had bleached it earlier today.

Jimin sat obediently, quietly admiring the way you took your time and cleaned the dye-stained skin around his hairline. He loved having your attention; you were always so gentle with him. His chest tightened as you hummed along to the song in the background, oblivious to the splashes of orange dye that had found your cheek.

"Oh my god. It's hella orange." You giggled.

Jimin pulled you onto his lap, partly to help you work more comfortably, mainly because he liked having you close.

"Does it look bad?" His warm eyes peered into yours, sounding somewhat unsure.

Brows furrowing, you paused to press a kiss on Jimin's pouting mouth. As if there were any universe in which Jimin looked bad. Seeing as his frown ceased to let up, you kissed him once more, "You look great, Minnie. My little pumpkin."

"Real convincing." He glared. Stealing one more kiss from you, he helped you off him and back up off the bathroom floor.

You watched intently as he moved towards the bathroom mirror. You weren't anticipating him to hate it, but should the situation present itself, you had made a point to buy an emergency bottle of black hair dye, ready to remedy the situation at a moment's notice.

Jimin said nothing at first, merely tilting his head from side to side as he ran his hands threw his newly orange, somewhat damp hair. A smile broke across his handsome face.

"It's actually pretty sick." He grinned, clearly pleased with the final result. You let out a breath of relief.

"I told you! Admit it, I was right, you look fucking hot. No one ever trusts my artistic vision." You sighed dramatically, earning you a chuckle.

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