The tension vibrates throughout the air, akin to a low hum that one would be well aware of yet do absolutely nothing to end its perpetual annoyance. Perhaps it was a tad brazen of him to ask a favor of someone he had just met, or even a stranger whom he hadn’t even been acquainted with as of yet.
Dire tendencies proved to be the worst for meeting folk, even in menial process of taking care of one’s beloved tresses.
So the youth flickered auric rings towards the side, attempting to glimpse at the one who continued to twine golden weave.
“…What’s yer’ name? M’Edward.”
She doesn’t mind it. Silence is something that Elsa is accustomed to. Conversations are much more difficult. Fingers weave in together golden strands and in truth she envies the color for a moment. It’s prettier than her own. In the wrong light her hair looks nothing short of snow white. Not a very flattering color for a young woman.
Even subtle movements are difficult to predict. While every attempt had been made not to touch – she had. In part it was a relief. She wouldn’t refrain from braiding freely now. She offered a mumbled apology.
“I run a bit cold.. I’m sorry about that. My name is Elsa. Do you have something for me to tie it up with? If I let go I think it’ll come undone.”
