We talked easily, because we both were on the same side of the conversation. You were the perfect description of changing in all of the possible ways. I liked that about you, even if our encounters were brief at times.
I remember you smirked when I finished my lame sentence.
"I guess this means another change of appearance?"
You were nothing to me, but still knew me so well. Maybe I'm too transparent to people, not the reserved meanie I thougth myself.
"I was in between dying my hair red, or blue. Afterall, both colors rock and are my favourites."
You seemed to think my words over, as if imagining how a nerd would look with a massive red or blue mane. I turned to look at the train railings, trying to not imagine something too photoshopped.
"You wear red the most. Dye it red, but not a soft shade, a vibrant one." I suddenly heard, and when I turned I saw a glimpse of a funny look in your face. What was so funny about this?
"If you think I'll look weird or ridiculo--"
"I was just thinking of other things! Don't take this the wro--"
"I guess I should have never asked, ugh."
Sometimes, you were annoying. The people around us started to look at me strangely when I tried to walk away, just for a bit. As if this was their problem to solve, the hair dye.
You got up from the station's low fence, and stood beside me anyways. Our train was next, and it's arrival was meant to be the end of this conversation. At least to me.
"I just wanted to clarify; I find it funny, how a vibrant red matches you, but not other stuff around you."
As we stepped in the vehicle, I tried to look firm and not at all surprised by that simple stament. I tried to smile, and to ignore the inevitable.
"I know, but I'm my own person, and the only thing that matters it's my preference."
You nodded, knowingly. "It would look awesome. The taking care of it part it's not that nice tho."
The topic forgotten, we started to chit chat about hairdressers, shampoos, and conditioners all the way to our homes.