When Charles came into the bedroom, Elsie was dressed in her nightclothes and standing in front of the mirror. When she heard him enter, she turned to give him a little smile. Then she turned back to the mirror. She removed a hairpin from the back of her head and laid it on the dresser. A long curl fell down her back. She pulled another pin out and another curly lock fell. Charles approached, fascinated. He watched as, little by little, she let all her hair down. Elsie turned to face him when she was finished. They were still and silent for a few moments when, with great hesitation, Charles reached out and took one of her curls between his fingers.

"Your hair," he murmured. "I never thought..."

"You never thought it would be so long?" Elsie suggested.

"I never thought about it at all," Charles admitted. "But it's..."

"It's what, Charles?"

"It's so lovely. You look so different with all of it down."

She turned back to the mirror. "Yes, I suppose I do."

Charles stepped a little closer so he could closely study the curl he still held. It was brown - chestnut perhaps, if he wanted to be precise - shot through with a few strands of silver. The silver hairs were more wiry than the darker ones, which made him think of his own curls, nearly unmanageable if not for the generous quantities of brilliantine he worked through them every morning. He wondered for a moment if she used anything to smooth her hair down, but it was soft between his fingers. He supposed that she must depend on the many pins she had just removed from it.

Elsie watched Charles as he studied the lock of her hair. He seemed unaware even of her presence, captivated as he was by this newly discovered treasure. Charles twisted it carefully around his finger. His hand brushed her neck briefly and he emerged from his reverie, now standing much closer to his bride than he had realized. Their eyes met and she smiled.

"I think I should change into my nightclothes, Elsie," he murmured.

"If you like," she assented softly.

Charles let the strand of her hair fall from his fingers and kissed her cheek, lingering a little, as he now had the right to do. His pajamas and dressing gown lay neatly folded on his pillow and he gathered them up with the intention of going to the bathroom to change when he caught sight of Elsie beginning to plait her hair.

"No, don't," he entreated, dropping his clothes back on the bed and returning to stand beside her. "Please leave it as it is."

Elsie met his eyes in the mirror. "It will be dreadfully tangled in the morning," she told him.

"Just this once, my darling," he asked again. "I'll brush it for you tomorrow."

Elsie smiled, blushed, and nodded.

Charles reached out for her hair again, this time grasping a bit more of it than before, though careful not to tug it. "It's beautiful, Elsie." He kissed her cheek again; this time he did not linger, but moved his lips to brush her neck.

Elsie inhaled sharply and closed her eyes. Charles raised his other hand and threaded his fingers through her hair, scratching her scalp lightly with his fingernails. Her breath grew shallower. In response, he kissed her other cheek, then moved his lips along her jaw and toward her lips.

At last, Elsie touched him, resting her hands lightly on his chest. Now even more urgently drawn to her, Charles let his hands slip from her silky curls to move around her waist, gathering her slowly but firmly against his body. She sighed with pleasure and Charles kissed her lips, gently at first, but then more intensely. His hands wandered about her body, caressing her as he had never been able to before. There was more of her to touch than he could touch as quickly as he wanted to. Elsie was overwhelmed by the sensations fluttering and rippling through her body.

Charles pulled away from the kiss. "My pajamas," he whispered.

Elsie blushed as she spoke. "Let me help you." She raised shaking hands to his tie, and slowly began to untie it. Charles stood frozen for a few moments, able neither to stop her nor help her. When he regained the capacity to move, he kissed her again, lost to any doubt or hesitation.

They made love. Charles took the lead, but Elsie followed close behind him; her hesitation flowing from lack of experience rather than lack of enthusiasm. There was awkwardness and imperfection, but there was also great joy. They had never before been so close together, in every way a man and a woman could be together. Charles could not resist curling his fingers once more through Elsie's hair after he had pulled the sheet and blanket over their bare bodies. She caressed his foot with one of her own. They fell asleep like this, their hearts and bodies tangled together.

In the morning, Elsie's hair was as snarled as she had known it would be, but Charles brushed it out for her. He kept his promise there as he had always kept his promises to her, and as he always would.

The end.