Chapter 8Cato
At least he had the deliberate massage of Roy’s fingers in his hair to reconcile him to a boring color. He tried to concentrate on the sensation and not think about the brightness fading away.
“Okay,” Roy said. “I think that should do it. Do you want to shower, or should I rinse you under the tap?”
Cato put his arms around Roy.
“Rinse? Okay, hold on.”
Cato shut his eyes and listened to the white noise of the faucet.
Roy tilted him backward, gentle because Roy was always gentle.
Cato held on and focused on the motion of Roy’s hands.
After a few minutes, the water shut off and Roy began to rub his head with a towel.
Cato sighed, and felt guilty when Roy patted his shoulder comfortingly.
“Strawberry blond. Is this your natural color?”
Cato peeked shyly at the mirror.
