A/N: I'm coming out of Myka/H.G. retirement to write this really angsty drabble. I may get around to finishing my other story for this fandom circa next month. Maybe. I dunno. This fandom kinda makes me sad…BUT this had to be written because I needed to justify why Myka's hair was so durn straight now. I like it curly!
I Straighten My Hair
I straighten my hair in silent reverence to you. With every pass of the iron through my naturally-curled locks, I remember what we had. Every layer lying flatter recalls what we lost.
I straighten my hair because as I bring my eyes up slowly to gauge my progress in the bathroom mirror, I see you. Feel your long fingers tangling through thick strands. Tangling only for you. Tears well in my eyes as I consider that my smoothed down mane will make it that much harder for any other to get their hands stuck to pull me in for a searing kiss. Not that any other could compare to your particular skill in that area…
Today, I straighten my hair in preparation for my return to the Warehouse. It's a bittersweet process coming too soon after seeing your projection in my father's store. Hearing you convincing me to go back, holding back the cry that bubbled up as I swiped my hand through your holographic body. Praying that my eyes allowed you to see that your destructive madness was understood and forgiven.
Walking down the corridor to the office, I realized I straightened my hair to carry a part of you back to the place where we first fell in love. Gratefully, I smile and run my fingers through my dark tresses and allow myself to hope that by walking through the door, I'm that much closer to finding my way back to you.
A/N2: I haven't watched the second ep of the season, so I don't know how TPTB has screwed this pairing further…also, it's okay to laugh at the uber-angst. I usually don't write like this. Once again, it's the vodka's fault.