𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐒𝐲𝐧┃𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐓𝐰𝐨

47. 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑇𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑀𝑦 𝐻𝑎𝑖𝑟

Syn

"Did you really need to wear a bikini to get your hair dyed?" I asked as I leaned against the bathroom door.
Queen smiled in response and continued organizing the tools we'd use to "become new people", as she said.

When she was done she stood in front of the mirror and took a deep breath. Her full breasts were decorated in a small black bikini top and her hair hung in curls past her shoulders.

"Synny, this hurts," she pouted as she stomped her feet and looked into the mirror.

"Don't call me that," I muttered. I walked next to her in front of the mirror and caught her eye as I placed my palms on the counter. "What hurts?"

"Do you know how long it takes my hair to grow?" She whispered.

"Queen, we went over this..."

"I know, I know-.... Just, I need to say this. Let me vent."

With a sigh, I leaned against the counter and crossed my arms. "Go ahead, Princess."

"My hair is...incredibly important to me," she started as she blew out a breath. "Especially as a black woman, I-"

"You're going there?"

She nodded quickly as she looked at herself in the mirror and touched her hair. "Yup, I'm going there. Now shh, it's my time."

"I'm sorry, go ahead."

"Don't laugh at anything I say please," she said with a small laugh.

I nodded and she took a deep breath and turned to me. "You may not remember this, but I was raised by Jonathan and Zara, Xyla is my sister...if you could even call us that. I don't remember much of what happened before they took me from my parents but I remember everything afterward."

"They took you?" I asked.

She glanced away from me and sighed. "Umm...it's a long story, I'll tell you later."

I nodded. "Okay."

"Mind you, they're possibly the whitest family in Heaven," she joked. "After taking me in, I remember my-...umm my mother I guess, she struggled with my hair. Like, throw me out of a window type of struggle."
She laughed at her own words but I sensed a certain pain behind it that I couldn't pinpoint.

"There were plenty of people around us that could help and some even offered but she was always too proud to ask. So instead, I'd be compared to Xyla about the difficulty in maintaining our hair...which was stupid just thinking about it but it used to hurt my feelings A LOT.

Nobody talks about it much anymore, but when we were younger she'd get into these sort of...fits kind of. She'd be fine for a while, amazing even, then one day she'd just...change. She'd be so...angry," she said softly. I moved towards her when her eyes watered but she shook her head and took a step away from me.

"This one day, she'd been in bed for a straight week. She didn't want to talk to anyone and everyone in the palace said to leave her alone. But I didn't listen- I was stupid as hell..." she said as she closed her eyes and shook her head.

"But even though she was super fucked up about the hair and shit, I looked at her as a mother...and I missed her. She would comb my hair every morning and even though it was an emotionally draining process with her- I just..."

"You needed your mother," I answered.

She looked up at me and nodded slowly. "Yeah, so I said fuck everyone telling me not to see her. I made her breakfast, snuck past the guards, and went to her room. She was normal at first, we ate and laughed together for a long time.