'So your back.' You tried to put on a fake grumble but it didn't work, the smile that ebgan to plaster against your lips so painfully annoying you couldn't help it.

The salon was quiet, almost so quiet you could hear your own heart skip a beat and began to pace faster than before. It was like you were an olympic sprinter. It began to race that fast, it was healthy for your heart to pace over a customer. Quite frankly it wasn't professional, but you liked it.

'Hi Y/n~' he cooed, more like begged,

He had a way with words that simply made your knees weak and your hands tremble, you turned your head to him. Hands placed against the leather of the empty chair, the assortment of scissors you were dabbling with placed against the bench top.

'The usual?' you snarkingly replied,

You watch a glimmer in his eyes quickly replaced with obvious lust faster than you could kick him out. His tongue stuck out as he sat in a chair almost squishing your hand between the upholstery and his back. Your fingers tangled with his plaits, pulling out holding them softly. You watched his eyes flutter shut, a smile adorn softly on his features his skin soft as you gently began to massage his head in your hands.

'You old man, going to sleep so soon we haven't even started.' You joked,

You watch his cheeks glow in the mirror as you reached forward grabbing a spray bottle filled with water spraying his hair so it was wet to the touch but not dripping wet. You fingers curled around the nozzle of the spray bottle yet the slipped on handle letting a large drip of water in the center of his forehead just below his hairline. You walked around the chair giggling, his eyes angered, as they snapped wide open glaring up at you.

'Fix it.' he grumbled,

You glared at him and smirked, You let in. Your knee placed against the seat between his two legs and against his crutch. You let close to his face, making sure he was watching your every move, watching him silently squirm before you licked the water off his forehead and took your composer getting back into dying his hair. The bleach laid in foils, as you took the chair beside him waiting for it to set, your feet placed against legs staying only by your will to not fall off until his hands wrapped around them holding them in place.

'Are you going to do it again?'

Your eyebrow raised, questioning what he was saying. His cheeks rosey, as his eyes darted to anything but you. You leant forward pulling your legs off him staring endlessly at him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

'Do what.' 'The water thing.'

You looked at him and smirked, you leant back in your chair. Your arms placed over your head resting for a moment before the face of another customer appeared in a small corner shop. You staggered to your feet putting on your arms to your side as you gave her your polite voice booking her an a appointment.

She disappeared when his arm slung around her waist, his fingers squishing the plush skin he could grip from the space between his skin and the baggy shirt she wore. He hummed against her his lips pressed against her shoulder where the shirt draped so much that it didn't cover the majority of the skin.

'It's itchy,' he whined, and you pushed him back into the chair.

Your weight soon followed. You body pushed upon him, legs up upon the arms of the chair as you laid in his lap smirking up at his obvious discomfort of being itchy to the lust that sprung out of his eyes at you.

It wasn't long after his hair was the usual, blown out and plaited all by yours truly and had a few extra treatments along the way. You watch the hickeys blossom in fabulous shades of blacks, greens, blues and beautiful shades of purple. All of which crawled up his neck passed the collar of his sweatshirt, a slight smudge on his lip from the lip stain you wore but other than that both of you were intact and so was the shop.

'So,' he slyly remarked leaning over the counter to the front desk, each of you on either side, 'How about a date? I don't just want to see you every month ya know.'

Your face soonly lit up, as you tried to stare at books to distract you. 'Sure, sure, haitani maybe no.'

You gave him his receipt and the flash of the blue handwriting passed your eyes in a glimpse. You watched his face turn sour yet you guessed you wrote it a bit too hard that the print showed on the other side. He read it with a smirk, as he soonly began to walk towards the door triumphantly with your phone number written on his receipt like he just won the lottery. You smirked watching him disappear, realizing this possibly be your downfall to a certain Haitani twin.