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Santiago preens a little in front of you.
“You got a haircut?” You smile, knowing full well that he did.
“It’s good right?” He gives you that practised smile, the ‘oh so casual and charming’. The one you’re sure he’s perfected by looking in the mirror.
“It’s nice.” You nod. Benny had sent you a grand total of seven million messages, and two photos, about Santi’s new hair.
B: Pope has a new haircut.
B: He’s literally fixing it in the mirror before he goes to ‘run into you’ by accident.
B: Please fuckigg tell him you like it. Please.
You: fuckigg?
B: Don’t.
B: Tell him you like it.
You: Don’t tell him I like it?
B: DON’T DO THIS TO ME. I KNOW USUALLY I’D LOVE THIS SHIT. BUT I CAN’T DEAL WITH HIM BEING ALL SAPPY OVER YOU ANYMORE.
B: FUCKING TELL HIM YOU LIKE HIS HAIR.
B: PLEASE.
B: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.
Benny sent you a selfie, he looks so fed up. In the background, Santi is looking at himself in the mirror, adjusting his hair and oblivious to Benny.
B: He’s still fixing his hair.
You: You know he doesn’t actually like me right? Maybe he just really likes this cut?
B: Are you fucking stupid?
B: I didn’t know you were this fucking stupid.
You: I love you too.
B: Tell him you like his hair. Or hate it. I don’t give a fuck.
B: Please tell him you like it.
“You wanna touch it?” Santi leans forward, tilting his head towards you and then pauses. You can see the cogs in his brain whirling. “Um… I’m not sure why I…”
“Sure.” You smile, taking pity on him and you lightly touch the side of his head. His hair is soft, thick and a little slick with product. “Your hair's really nice, what do you use in it?”
“Nothing,” he shrugs like it’s nothing, “All natural.”
“Uh huh.” You smirk.
“I mean,” he fidgets a little. “Family secret.”
You snort. “Okay.”
He pauses, chewing lightly at his bottom lip. “I, um…” his shoulders sink a little as he visibly deflates. “This isn’t going how I wanted.” He mutters.
“How you wanted?”
He shakes his head for a second, and you can see the pattern of thoughts cross his mind. First instinct is to ignore, deny, say nothing. Second is to lie, to brush it off.
He goes with the third.
“It never goes how I want with you, you make me lose all my moves.” He sighs.
“Moves?” You can’t help but smile.
“Yeah,” he grins when he sees your expression, his eyes lighting up. “I forget everything about the art of seduction.” He leans closer as he says the last bit, putting on a mock husky voice that makes you giggle.
“You trying to seduce me?”
“For months.”
The honesty in his voice makes you pause. Swallow. “Really?”
He nods, “Sorry I’ve been so shit at it.”
“No, it’s… endearing… and also, I’m a bit,” you tap your head for emphasis, “I don’t notice when anyone’s flirting with me, ever.”
“I’ve been trying to do more than flirting,” Santi smirks. “Go out with me? On a date date?”
“A date date?”
“Yeah,” he grins, already knowing your answer.
You nod.