Hair
"Your hair is so soft…"
When she speaks like that, it makes his skin tingle in the best of ways.
It's a mid-Sunday afternoon, Jet is out, and they lounge freely.
The T.V. is on with low volume and Faye is situated on the sofa with her legs rested on the table before them. Her right hand holds loosely to her magazine and her left is delved deep into Spike's hair.
The book, that they were previously discussing, shields his face as his head rest in her lap and he is practically lulled to sleep.
He secretly loves it, but never asks for it. Thankfully, Faye doesn't need to be asked.
"So, I've heard." He mutters, sleepily.
Her fingers brush out in slow and lovely patterns, she doesn't miss a beat. Sometimes she mixes it up with a light tug, which is even better.
He wonders what she thinks when she does it.
Does it console her?
It does for him.
Or maybe she just enjoys the power it has over him.
Faye laughs gently.
Spike stirs.
"What?"
"No seriously, do you even use conditioner?"
"Some herbal plant oil."
"Of course."
"Send me back now."
And she does.