Messy bun :3

That loosely gathered knot sits slightly off-center, dark strands escaping in every direction like it happened somewhere between rushing out the door and deciding not to care. A few pieces curl against the back of her neck, catching light.

You find yourself fixating on the specific strand falling across her shoulder, the way it traces a line your fingers want to follow. Nothing about it was planned, which is exactly the problem.

Messy in the way that makes you want to pull the whole thing loose slowly, watch it unravel, feel the weight of it finally fall down.