Hair

James ran his fingers through Rebecca's hair, letting them get stuck as they came to the numerous notes so that he could locate them and slowly undo them. Rebecca leaned back into him, her eyes closed and her shoulders resting against his chest. She didn't make much noise, apart from the occasional yip when his tugging got down to the roots of her hair and pulled on her scalp just a bit too hard, quickly followed by his soft apologies as he continued his work. It wasn't that Rebecca lacked a comb, or that her hair was particularly messy. James just liked the feeling of his fingers running through her hair, and he didn't mind helping with the knots along the way. 

He could smell the pomegrante shampoo she used in the air all around him, and he knew it would persist between his fingers for hours to come. He enjoyed that thought. Being able to carry that smell around with him wherever he went was like being able to take her with him. Or at least, it was the next best thing. 

"You're the best." Rebecca's quiet, relaxed voice drifted up to James as he ran his fingers through her hair a half a dozen times, searching for the next knot and enjoying how smooth and silky her hair felt. He looked down at her, and she tilted her head back to look up at him with a sleepy smile. She always looked so relaxed when he took care of her hair for her. 

"No I'm not," he whispered quietly, but surely. "I just enjoy taking care of you."

Rebecca hummed happily and smiled up at him. "That's close enough for me," she assured him. "I can live happy with just a man who combs my hair with his fingers."

"Is that so?" James asked with a coy grin. "I guess I'm lucky I'm willing to do that then. Otherwise you might go and find another man."

Rebecca hummed and shook her head. "I wouldn't do that."

"Oh? And why not?"

"Because. You're the best."

James chuckled and let her hair hair sprawl out around them both. "I seem to recall this conversation."