I can't believe I just saw Sei send Lucy away like that. Never would I have ever predicted that she'd do that. And now she's sitting her next to me, my hair. I feel like I ought to say something, but I can't think of what to say. And even if I could think of something, my mouth's so dry I don't know if I could say it. "I'm going to start with braiding your hair," Sei says, startling me out of my thoughts. "I'm thinking Dutch braids." She slides up to the head of the bed, spreads her legs, and motions for me to sit between her legs. Once I'm in position, she closes her legs on me - I can feel the strong muscles in her thighs pressing against me. She leans over, grabs a comb from her bedside table, and starts combing my hair. Once it's combed out straight, she parts it down the middle and starts braiding one side, turning the braid under and pulling in extra strands of hair as she goes. She whole time, she's holding up her side of the conversation so well that I don't have to say anything. She talks about her recent thoughts, her hopes for Weki Meki, what other groups she's enjoyed. After a while she starts leaving some gaps so I can talk too, and by the time she's finished braiding the first half of my hair, I feel closer to her than I ever have before. I'm enjoying talking with her so much that I forget to be nervous. She puts a clip to hold the first braid, then gets started on the other side. I get little shivers wherever her fingers touch me, and by the time she's finished the other side I'm so relaxed I could fall asleep. She combines the two braids, braiding them together to hang down my back, then when she reaches the bottom she puts an elastic to hold it in place. "Done!" she proclaims. I'm a little sad that she won't be playing with my hand anymore - I think I could sit here and let her do that forever. She hands me a mirror so I can see my hair. She did a really good job - no flyaway hairs, braids perfectly straight and even. Stylist-nim would have had a hard time doing a better job. While I'm checking out my hair, I angle the mirror so I can catch a quick glimpse of her face. She looks as happy as I feel right now. Apparently whatever's going on here tonight, she's enjoying it too. "Okay!" she says as she reclaims the mirror. "Scoot up so I can do your makeup!" As I scoot up, I feel cold in all the places Sei's no longer touching me. As she climbs down from the bed to get her makeup case, I notice that she shivers - apparently she's feeling it too. She slides her chair over by me and puts her makeup case on it. When she opens it, my jaw drops: She has a collection of beauty products that would do a professional proud! I knew she enjoyed getting dressed up and made up for appearances, but I had no idea she liked it this much. She stands in front of me, cupping her chin in her hand as she studies my face from different angles. "Your skin's nice and clear, so that makes things easier," she says. "What makeup remover and facial cleanser to do you use?" When I tell her, she frowns and shakes her head. "Those are good," she says, "but not really good enough, you know? Next time we have a day off, I'm taking you shopping for some proper facial care products." Interesting. . . she doesn't ask me if she can take me shopping, doesn't ask if I want to go shopping, just tells me she's goi