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.