The Unpredictable Five Book Two

Chapter Five ~ Home

"If you make me pick up the phone I'm biting you." I said, sitting upside on the plush velvet couch.

Peter sighed and turned over his cell phone.

"Oh come it's your mother, you owe her that much to call." He said, his blond hair sticking to his cheek.

It was March 1, a few weeks after Valentines Day and a warm spring breeze had fallen over Paris, with the sun actually coming out and the nights lighting with a thousand stars.

"You need a haircut." I said, pointing out.

He frowned and put his phone in his pocket, crashing beside me.

"If we're going to poke fun at hair then you're hopelessly out done because you haven't done anything with yours." He smiled.

I gasped in mock sarcasm.

"Well isn't that a problem!" I laughed, the colors rising on my cheeks.

He put his finger on his chin, deep in thought.

"There's a salon over on Oak, let's go, but you have to promise something." He said, grabbing my hands and pulling me up.

I chuckled.

"What is it?"

He straightened his shirt and cleared his coat.

"You have to actually doing something with your hair!" He joked.

I flushed.

~

"Alright, I'm going to let you see the new Peter Delacourt in three seconds." I said, holding the railings of Peter's salon chair.

He closed his eyes facing me, his light red lips curling with amusement.

"If it sucks I'm killing you."

I laughed and turned the chair.

"Well call me dead." I said.

Peter opened his eyes and gaped.

"Holy macaroni my hair is actually blond." He said in awe. "I thought it was brown."

I plopped down on the chair beside him.

"Wonderful, now what should I do with mine?" I asked, pulling my hair out of a pony tail.

I always loved my hair, it was my favorite feature. The long black strands that straightened to my hips and covered half my eye. To break with it in an way would mean death.

"I'm going to guess cutting is a no?" He asked.

"Of course. . .maybe color?" I said.

Peter pondered the thought.

"Yes do a vibrant rainbow."

"Shut up you idiot." I said, smiling with rosy red cheeks.

Something snapped in my head.

Rosy. Red. Cheeks.

Red.

"I'm going to do red tips." I said a matter of factly.

Peter smiled.

"Strong move." He said.

I looked at the catalogue on the left by the tattoo artist and my heart soared.

"There's one more thing." I said.

Peter's eyebrow rose.

"What is it?"

"I want a tattoo." I said, and Peter's blank expression surprised me.

"Of what?" He asked, thinking.