"Really?" Kay had a smug moment, for it was he who had the short hair, always. It was a precarious thing, for knowing the differences could lead to true discovery, something they were all terrified of. But it was still something for Kay.
Kay led the way back to her room, grabbing a hair brush from the table as he did so. Just because he was a more masculine aspect of the personalities didn't mean he didn't have the same innate skill for altering clothes and doing hair.
"Sit," he urged, and crawled up on the bed behind her, kneeling, to begin running the brush carefully through her wet hair. Kay's fingers were gentle, and every tangle was carefully picked out before it could be tugged. With every stroke, there was the faintest hum of magic from his hands, magic urging the hair to dry gently. It was soothing, to do someone's hair, and he took advantage of it to gently run his fingers through her hair. "I love your hair," he murmured.