Gonna Make You Popular

Peter wrinkled his nose, stray bits of cut hair tickling his face as Jiao brushed a hand through the mop on top of his head. His own hand immediately followed hers, moving his curls into a more comfortable position on his head, and feeling what had been cut short. It was softer than it had been before, and immediately his fingers slowed, Peter trying to enjoy the feeling as much as he could. Touch was more than enough for him, and he though it would probably pass faster if he didn’t spend every moment looking at what Jiao has changed. There was some confusion on his face as he looked at himself, Peter tugging at his shirt briefly before tugging off his last remaining scarf. ”This... it’s black. Black doesn’t get messy.” It was clear he thought hat was true, some of the darker patches on his sleeves speaking both to the garments history and lack of washing. ”What’s going to be messy?” Peter craned, trying to see the bottles she was looking at. All he could tell what there was a lot of colours, some of which he supposed he wouldn’t mind having on or around his face. Peter The only thing I know is this: I am full of wounds and still standing on my feet.