the shire is burning [eddie munson x OC]

chapter four

"It's fucking red , Robin!"

Robin Buckley wasn't able to often brag about being right, especially to Willow Jenkins. And as both girls met each other's wild gazes in the mirror, they both knew this moment would go down in their history.

"I told you not to trust me with your hair and chemicals! What do I look like, a chemist?"

"No, but-"

"Maybe a hairstylist? I mean, I do cut my own bangs-"

"Buckley!" Willow snaps, looking miserably in the mirror. They had gone to the store this morning, buying up box hair dye that promised soft, autumn ginger. But Willow's hair, even though it was wet, was very clearly not the soft ginger promised.

It was firetruck red.

"It's not even that bad," Robin starts to reassure her, "I think it looks badass. It could have turned out like, green or something. So at least we stayed in the warmer color range!"

"It's red ," Willow continues to whine, absolutely stunned. A heavy pit of anxiety settled in her stomach as she realized she had to go out in public like this, that everyone at school would see. And her mother, her sweet mother had no idea what idiotic idea she and Robin had gotten into this time.

"What's the commotion?" With impeccable timing, Willow's mother, Anna, suddenly appears in the bathroom door frame.

Her fatigue is clear on her face, the hazel eyes she passed down to her daughter dreary with sleep. She had obviously just woken up, messy bed head and all.

"Nothing!" Robin squeaks as Willow grabs for a towel to cover her hair. She probably should have warned her mother of the drastic change she had planned.

It takes a moment before Anna registers her daughter's hair. "What did you do ?"

"Mom, listen-"

"Your hair!" she fusses, walking over and flinging the towel off of Willow's head, "I... Willow, please just tell me this is a wig."

Instead of answering with her words, Willow reaches up and tugs on a crimson strand.

"If it helps, we were going for ginger," Robin sheepishly defends, lifting the box out of the trash.

"H-how..." Anna trails off, shaking her head, "Well, at least tell me you like it?"

Willow responds with, "I hate it!" at the same time Robin chimes in, "I think it looks lovely!"

Anna groans, "Oh, my sweet, sweet Willow. I don't have the money to take you somewhere to get this fix-"

"What? No, mom. It's okay. I dug my grave, I'll lay in it," Willow rushes out, not enjoying the prospect of forcing her mother to spend any unnecessary money on her, "Maybe it'll fade ginger."

"Maybe," Anna murmurs, running her fingers through, cringing when the wetness left behind on her fingertips is tinged scarlett, "Be careful of going to bed with wet hair for a while, love. I don't think you want your pillowcases to match your hair."

"I will. Go back to bed," Willow insists, grabbing her mom's hand from her scalp.

Robin nods beside her. "Yeah, go catch up on rest, Miss J. I'll take care of her."

Anna gives a teasing look at Robin before humming a farewell, walking back out. Neither girl says a word until they hear the click of her bedroom door.

"Well, that went well," Robin chides.

Willow can't even argue with that, Robin's right. She had been bracing herself for a much worse reaction. "Yeah. It did."