Fingers easily slide through red hair, pulling it back into beautiful braids, even in the barely there morning glow. The sun may still be rising, casting beautiful glows of oranges, pinks, and reds across the land, but even in this colorful lighting, her apple red hair shines so beautifully, stark and different against the morning light backdrop.
And Zen's hands are delicate, as if he's fearful of hurting her by tugging too tightly, as Shirayuki leans back against him, letting his fingers roam through her hair as they carefully make braids out of her hair. It's been a long time, since someone else's fingers ran through her hair, pulling it back with the careful ease of an artist.
Her grandmother was the last person to braid her hair, and even that wasn't super common. And hadn't happened more than six months before her death, when she began to get sick, the braiding had stopped entirely, so Shirayuki hadn't tried to mimic those steady hands, herself. It felt different to braid her own hair than to have someone lovingly pull it back.
Her own hands were familiar, hardworking ones, that always left her feeling if she braided her hair that she was preparing for something, but whenever her grandmother had braided her hair, it felt as if it were an act of absolute love, a chance to be close, without anything else calling them away, as if they had all of the time in the world to be next to each other.
And that's exactly how it feels as Zen loops her hair carefully over each other, as if Shirayuki could be back home, relaxing by someone who knew her so well and loved her so completely. Zen's hands are so gentle, even so, that Shirayuki closes her eyes despite the rising sun around them and just relaxes, knowing that Zen will let her know somehow whenever he's down.
And when his gloved hands finally do pull out of soft hair, he tells her, "It's probably not perfect, but..."
And she cuts him off, as she finally turns around to face him, "It's perfect enough for me." Shirayuki doesn't need to see the braid or to admire the craftmanship that went into it, to know just how lovingly, he'd braided her hair.
So, quietly, she leans forward and kisses him, as if they have all the time in the world, surrounded by the rising sun and it's beautiful sunrise hues, even if they run the risk of messing up Shirayuki's newly braided hair.