Nolan

It was a typical Tuesday morning. The alarm rang treacherously ten minutes early, but you were already awake. You were lying on Nolan's, your boyfriend's, shoulder, examining his sleep-tangled hair.

The idea came suddenly, as usually happens with the craziest morning thoughts.

You carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, so as not to wake him, and tiptoed to your vanity. In a small box, among forgotten earrings and hair ties, lay your treasure—a collection of hairpins. There were tiny rhinestone-studded clips, bow-tied clips, and funny ones with cherries and pandas.

Having chosen a few, you returned to bed. Nolan was asleep, his brows furrowed comically in his sleep.

"Nolan," you whispered, barely holding back your laughter. "Nolan, it's urgent."

— Mm-hm? — He opened one eye, squinting in the morning light. — What happened? A fire?

"Worse," you said seriously, brushing his bangs off his forehead. "A style crisis."

Before he could respond, you deftly pinned a strand of hair above your forehead with a pink peony. Nolan froze, looking up at you with sleepy, but already surprised, eyes.

• What you...

“Now it’s the butterfly’s turn,” you interrupted him, securing the clip to the side so that it peeked out coquettishly from behind your ear.

Having finished with all the pins, you stepped back to admire your handiwork. You braced yourself for him to laugh, shake off the jewelry, and call you crazy. Or get offended.

But Nolan blinked a couple of times, apparently realizing the full weight of his new image, and then suddenly smiled. Not condescendingly, but very warmly and shyly.

"Well?" he asked, his voice hoarse from sleep. "Does it suit me?"

You couldn't help but smile.

• Very much so. Especially the bow tie. It really accentuates your masculinity.

"Great," he yawned and, instead of removing the hairpins, pulled you back onto his shoulder. "Then we'll just lie like this. You, me, and my shiny new hairdo."