an archive built on the strands of your hair turned loose

Eliot Spencer has spent years hiding behind straightened hair and carefully constructed walls. But when Hardison gifts him with hair products designed to embrace his natural curls, and Parker begins to test the boundaries of physical intimacy, everything starts to unravel. This is a story of trauma, healing, and the courage to embrace vulnerability—all woven through the intimate connections between three people who've found family in each other. Can Eliot let go of the past and allow himself to be truly seen, or will old fears continue to dictate his future?

an archive built on the strands of your hair turned loose

Eliot Spencer has spent years hiding behind straightened hair and carefully constructed walls. But when Hardison gifts him with hair products designed to embrace his natural curls, and Parker begins to test the boundaries of physical intimacy, everything starts to unravel. This is a story of trauma, healing, and the courage to embrace vulnerability—all woven through the intimate connections between three people who've found family in each other. Can Eliot let go of the past and allow himself to be truly seen, or will old fears continue to dictate his future?

The hair products sit on the bathroom counter, small bottles representing a kindness I don't quite know how to accept. Hardison's research, his thoughtfulness, hangs in the air between us like an unspoken question I'm not ready to answer.

I stand in front of the mirror, water running in the shower behind me, staring at my reflection. My hair is still damp from the quick rinse I allowed myself—no product, no straightening, just water and the natural curl pattern I've spent years fighting.

A soft knock at the bathroom door startles me. "Eliot? You almost done in there? We're gonna start the movie without you if you take much longer."

Hardison's voice is casual, but I hear the underlying concern. They've noticed my hesitation, my avoidance of the products sitting right here between us.

I reach for the bottle of shampoo, the scent of coconut and honey already beginning to fill the small space. My reflection watches me, uncertain. This isn't just about hair care. It's about letting someone see all of me—the parts I've hidden away for so long.

The shower door creaks open slightly, and Parker's eyes appear around the edge, curious and direct as always. "Are you okay? You've been in here a long time."

I meet her gaze in the mirror, holding her stare as I weigh my next move. This is a choice point—not just about how I style my hair, but about how much of myself I'm willing to reveal.