"My hair?" Carlisle inquired.
I nodded.
"Feel free," he said as he snapped his fingers and his hair fell back to his shoulders.
"Do you have a ribbon?" I questioned.
"Aren't you supposed to supply it? You were the one who wanted to do my hair."
I didn't have anything. I stumbled for a response before all of a sudden, a red ribbon materialized and I smiled at him. Despite his words, his actions were always kind. Despite his gruff exterior, I had realized that Carlisle was kinder than I had given him credit for. Sitting up, I leaned against him, his arm against my chest.
"Oi. . ."
I looked down at him, "Yes?" I questioned.
"This is uncomfortable."