She tried to comb the fingers of the broken arm through her hair and gave up after a moment. “I should just cut it all off,” she muttered, frustrated. “Venice? Really Venice? I haven’t been out of the country since … god, years ago.” Looking at her hands in her lap, Summer added, “I hate being this helpless to even take care of myself. I can barely even brush my own hair.”
“Really Venice,” Tony replied, as he somewhat reluctantly removed the cat from his lap and got to his feet. He stretched, and set about pulling off his tie, while he asked, “Where do you keep your hairbrush stashed?” He draped his tie over her head, because apparently that was the most convenient place to put it at the moment. Heaven forbid he just leave it on the coffee table.
Automatically, she replied, “Bathroom counter, on top of the mirror,” before her brain caught up. Snatching the tie off her head, she blinked up at him. “Why?” Helios stretched in imitation of Tony, before putting his tail in the air and falling over with a soft thump, belly up.
Tony disappeared into the bathroom, calling, “You’re threatening to chop your hair off,” in reply. He emerged a moment later, passing the hairbrush from one hand to the other. “I like your hair. Or have you not noticed that I play with it at the slightest provocation?”
“Things have been so crazy lately, I guess I forgot.” Summer looped the tie around her fingers, then tried, awkwardly, to tie herself up with it, before giving up and hanging it off the arm of the sofa. Running her hand along the back of her neck, she pulled the mass of hair over one shoulder into her lap, then held out her hand for the brush.