"I like your hair curly."
This was the first time anyone had ever said that to Kitty Pryde. She looked vaguely shocked; Peter just grinned.
"It's really cute like that."
She smiled, sheepish. "Well, I don't exactly have a straightener in space."
"Why do you even bother straightening it? It looks really good all curly and wavy."
"It's totally impossible to control," but Kitty was practically beaming at Peter. Since she came back from England, she had tried to hide the curl of her hair, the untamed, unabashed Jew-fro-iness of it. First, she cut it short, and that worked for a while, but as soon as it grew out, it fluffed out as well. In college, she had tried desperately to tame it. Waking up at 6 am every morning to straightening it. Slicking it back with gel at night when she worked at the bar. She continued the straightening process when she started working at the Academy, and on the days when she gave up completely, she just pulled it back into a painfully tight ponytail. She spent years wishing her hair would stop being so uncontrollable.
But suddenly, with Peter smiling at her, touching her curls softly, that wish went away.
"Do you really like it?"
"Yeah! Totally and completely!"
She smiled at him. "Well," she wrapped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair. "I like yours the way it is, too."
He giggled and blushed, "ready to go?"
She nodded and they kissed.
Hey, if you're in space, you might as well go to a space club, right?