I'm not sure if this chapter counts as just one scene, but one of my favorite scenes in "Sun with a Paper Crown" is this one:
He shakes his head subtly, running one hand through the end of his glossy mane unamusedly, like he has no energy for somebody’s dumb prank.
He’s too pretty…
“I haven’t been able to get my hair cut or dyed in ages. I just had to trim the bleached parts off myself when it grew out ‘til you would’ve thought it was dip-dye. I didn’t want to go around looking 2010s-y.”
“Cough cough, diva,” I laugh into my fist.
“It wouldn’t kill you to get a haircut either,” he half-smiles now, taking up the end of one of my strands of hair like it’s a curly snake. “When was the last time you trimmed this fleece of yours? You’re starting to look like a Barbet.”
“Yeah yeah,” I roll my eyes, “I’ll probably get a trim before the photo shoot, but I can’t trim it too much or it won’t match the painting.”
“The what?” He looks at me bewildered, without letting go of my hair.
“The photoshoot,” I say, commandeering my curls out of his hand,“‘Still Life Journal’ wants to remake my painting ‘Eve’ as a photograph, with me as the girl in the river.” I pretend not to notice the way he colors slightly. “Which reminds me, do you still have my measurements?”
It takes him a minute to respond before he turns slightly like he’s going to look for his phone.
When he remembers he left it in the kitchen he just rests his head on his hand.
“Um, yeah. They're on my phone. But they’re probably not going to be accurate now. It’s been a while.”
“Ouch,” I say playfully offended, putting my hand to my heart, “You could at least pretend to patronize me. I haven’t gotten that fat in a few months.”
“For all you know I might have been saying you got thinner,” he smiles just slightly, “I will neither confirm nor deny anything.”
“Fine, fine. Would you help me retake the measurements?” I sigh.
“N-” he hesitates looking at me like he wants to say something very different.
“I can’t really take your measurements. You’ll have to do it yourself. I wouldn’t be able to reach properly from in my chair, and there’s not really any way to get us on a level plane unless we both l-”
He stops himself before he even finishes that statement, but I redden at the idea behind the silence.
“It can’t be done,” He smiles with a sort of finalizing shrug, “The cloth measuring tape is in my cabinet…”
He stops for a second and seems to be thinking really hard about something.
“My medicine cabinet. There are a lot of prescriptions in there so don’t be surprised.”
My mouth opens without my consent - and I…
-Want to say something but think better of it, for once, nodding and making my way to the master bathroom.
