By the time Michel worked his way to Zevran's scalp he was listing backward, eyes half lidded- were it possible for an elf to purr? He'd be doing so. His skin still burned but his head did not ache so much and he felt slightly more presentable. Tipping his head back into Michel's hands didn't truly help him untangle what knots there were to be found but the press of his fingers felt good. Soothing, grounding. A different delicacy about him than most anyone else he allowed to play with his hair.

"A lifetime of practice and good care has done it well. The one thing it does not do? Is take red. I can make it darker if I must for a job, but it does not take the color red easily- and even should it do so? It does not last." All the better, truly. Blond suited him best.