Messy Bun

He hated messy bun days.

A messy bun meant she was feeling stressed, frazzled. She'd just grabbed the nearest elastic and shoved her hair up out of her face. Those were days when there wasn't enough time to get through her daily to do list and days she was almost angry.

On messy bun days she was everywhere at once, racing from one place to the next, eating breakfast while reading her potions essay over one more time. Messy bun days she was a klutz, because they were the days that everything inevitably went wrong. He hadn't cared, he'd provoked her anyway, but he'd always know when tears sprang to her eyes that he'd gone too far.

Before they'd started dating he'd avoided her on messy bun days. They were the days she'd bite his head off for even a hello. Now, he still avoided her for the majority of messy bun days. If he was feeling particularly lucky he's provoke her into yelling at him for the simple joy of making up at the end of the day. It was the only day he got to see the true spit fire Lily. Still, when she was provoked to breaking point and tears were in her eyes, he held her close and told her the paper she was working on wasn't due for another three weeks. She still had time.

But he still hated messy bun days.