"He's gonna kill you, you know that?"
"Shh, keep your voice down. You'll wake him," Atlanta hissed at Odie, who stood in the doorway sipping a soda and watching her. "And he won't kill me. He's worked too hard for this relationship to kill me off just yet."
"Whatever you say," Odie shook his head as he turned and retreated to his basement sanctuary. He made a mental note to himself to start working on his testimony now, should he need it.
With the distraction gone, Atlanta returned to the task at hand. It had been a slow, boring Sunday at the Brownstone. None of the seven heroes had anything particular to do, and each spent their day trying to keep busy doing something. Odie and Herry were messing around in their perspective rooms downstairs, Neil was making rounds at the mall and various salons even though he had done the exact same the day before, and Jay and Theresa were out somewhere together (though, the rest of the house really didn't want the details). Atlanta had planted herself on the couch flipping through TV stations in a continuous round – even the TV networks didn't have anything special going on. Archie soon joined her, and despite the clearly open seating, as well as Atlanta's remarks, he sat on the floor leaning against her legs and began to read. Not long after he sat down, partly out of boredom and partly out of habit, Atlanta began to play with her warrior's hair.
Archie's violet locks had always intrigued Atlanta since the day she met him. Perhaps it was the way the vibrant color contrasted his pale skin, or maybe it was just the color itself – she did have a soft spot for boys who picked up the dye bottle. However, the intrigue intensified the day she first ran her fingers through it. Still to this day she wondered how it remained so soft and fluffy with all the bleach and dye he used on it. And now that he was hers, she took every possible opportunity to trail her fingers through it and ravel in its soft luxurious purpleness.
Today, Archie's hair held a new interest for her. As her hands glided through (his hair now fully occupied her attention as the TV stalled on a station with some sports game), she could see his brown roots beginning to peek through below his purple hair. This was almost as intriguing as the purple. She began to wonder how Archie would look if he kept with his normal color and let the purple grow out – though, she wouldn't trade that precious color for the world.
When something brushed against her knee, Atlanta snapped back to reality. As she glanced down, she suddenly recalled Archie's only weakness other than his ankle: having his hair played with relaxed him to the point where he would fall asleep. And he had done just that. His head rested against her leg as his book slid to the floor, losing its current page.
She considered waking her boyfriend up, but at the same time she wanted to keep playing with his hair; there really wasn't anything else to do, after all. Trying to make up her mind, she glanced around the room. Her eyes fell upon the coffee table, on which lay one of those plastic loom things that were currently all the rage, and turned little rubberbands into various jewelry items – it was Theresa's new hobby after she did a little too much internet browsing one night. Atlanta glanced between a small baggie of rubber bands on the table and Archie's hair. A wicked smile spread across her face as she carefully leaned forward and snatched the baggie of colorful bands and set to work.
That was all a little over a half hour ago. As she wrapped the final lock of purple hair with a tiny rubberband, she smiled down at her handiwork. A giggle escaped her mouth. She had divided all of Archie's hair into tiny little tufts and wrapped a rubberband around each one, resulting in little tails that stuck out from his head in a very peculiar fashion.
"Wakey, wakey, Sleeping Beauty." She leaned down and kissed the young man's cheek. He stirred, waking from his restful nap. "I was playing with your hair again and you fell asleep. Sorry."
"Mmh. I don't mind. It felt wonderful."
"Can you – Could you get up?" Atlanta fought back the laughter. Archie had turned to face her, and the front view of his new hairstyle was even more humorous than the back. "I… I need to use the bathroom. Or something."
The boy raised an eyebrow as he stood and held out his hand to pull the girl up. " 'Or something'?"
The more she looked, the harder it was to refrain herself. "Yeah… I've gotta… I've gotta go." She stood on her toes to reach Archie's lips for a kiss. The innocent look on his face was more than she could bear, and she quickly made her way towards the stairs.
At the small landing between floors, she flopped down and burst into a fit of laughter. Maybe Odie was right and Archie would kill her for this after all, once he realized just what she had done. However, the only regret she had at the moment was that she didn't have her PMR with her to capture the moment.
"ATLANTAAAA!"
As the voice echoed through the building, another wave of laughter came over her as she pictured a red-faced and furious Archie with his new hairdo.
"WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE?!"
Yeah. She was as good as dead. But in a strange way, it was worth it.
