From the Ashes

[8] Roman

Roman's POV.

"Aleithea?" I whisper lowly as I recognize Allie from underneath a head of pink hair. I'm shocked, to say in the least. Her electric blue eyes look sideways as her brow lowers.

"Yeah?" she mutters, her icy gaze returning to me. Without taking my eyes off of her and her drastic new look, I leave the jewelry case and move to stand in front of her.

 "What the hell did you do to your hair?" I say incredulously as I reach to twist a spiky lock between my fingers. She swats at my hand in annoyance.

 "Dyed it, obviously."

 "But why?" She gives me a scowl, and I can't help but notice a glimmer of disappointment in her eyes. She might've been expecting a different reaction from me. But frankly, I was surprised. Not really in a good way. I mean, it looked pretty good, I guess, but it didn’t seem like Allie. It wasn't Aleithea.

 "Because I wanted a change? Honestly, you're acting like I shaved my head bald. Geez. I thought you were into this kind of look," she mutters the last part under her breath. Her blue eyes are now downcast, and the pink spiky hair falls about her face to hide her knit brow as she purses her lips in agitation.

 "It's not you." Her head snaps up, and frustration sets her glacial eyes ablaze.

 "You don’t even know me. It’s just a dye job," she hisses. I return the frosty look she's giving me before turning to leave. I pause to look back over my shoulder at her.

 "Labels aren't important, Allie. I thought you knew that more than anyone, and I admired you for it." With my piece said, I start to walk out of the store, choosing to pick up some new lip rings later.

 "You're one to talk, emo boy," she spits after me. I stop in my tracks before turning on my heel.

 "Emo isn't always a label," I say darkly, catching her look squarely, "And you don't know the first thing about me, either." Her eye contact wavers with discomfort before flickering away from me.

Great. Not Allie, too.