PREVIEW
... t before the mirror, carefully working the towel through long strands until they were dry enough to comb. It took patience, more than he had most days, but he refused to let the weight drag on his shoulders.
His fingers moved deftly, twisting the dark locks into a neat bun at the nape of his neck.
There was no skincare here, nothing close to the bottles and jars he had grown used to in his world.
He would have to make do or better, make his own.
At least the extra ...
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