Barber La Femme – Hidden Feelings Pt. 2

Hello everyone, sorry I’ve not uploaded in a while. A combination of being busy at work and a lack of motivation is my excuse.

This is a continuation of “Barber La Femme – Hidden Feelings” but now from Maya’s POV.

Hope you enjoy.

 

 

 

 

 

Kate smiled victoriously before turning towards the now-empty barber chair.

“Right then.”

She patted the pink leather seat.

“Maya.”

“Your turn.”

Maya stood, laughing as she walked over to the chair.

“Try not to make me obsessed with my own haircut again.”

Kate smirked.

“No promises.”

I laughed as I walked towards the chair.

“No promises,” Kate had said.

Somehow, I believed her.

I stepped onto the chrome footrest and lowered myself into the large pink leather barber chair that had become so familiar over the years.

The leather gave its usual soft creak beneath me.

Unlike Ellie, there wasn’t even the slightest hesitation.

I’d lost count of how many times I’d sat here.

This chair had seen every stage of my short hair journey—from the nervous undercut Kate had talked me into years ago, to my first pixie cut which I was so nervous about to my current classic barbershop skin fade and textured crop on top.

Or should I say had.

Until Kate works her magic as always.

It felt oddly comforting.

Almost routine.

I leaned back against the chair with a contented sigh.

Behind me I heard Ellie settle onto the waiting bench.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught her reflection in the mirror.

She was still smiling.

Still quietly admiring her haircut.

And…

There it was again.

Her hand drifted up to the faded side of her head almost absent-mindedly.

I couldn’t help grinning.

She was hooked already.

Kate noticed too.

“Told you.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” I replied, although I was clearly thinking exactly the same thing.

Kate laughed softly before stepping behind me.

Her hands settled briefly on my shoulders.

Firm.

Familiar.

She gently eased me back the last inch until my shoulders rested comfortably against the chair.

“There.”

“That’s better.”

“I know the drill,” I said.

“You should by now.”

The music drifting through Barber La Femme mixed with the quiet conversations around the shop.

Across the room, I could hear Sam chatting cheerfully to her client while the steady hum of clippers came from Anna’s station.

The place always had its own rhythm.

Relaxed.

Comfortable.

Busy without ever feeling rushed.

Kate reached towards the neck-strip dispenser mounted beneath the mirror.

Rrrrip.

I’d always loved that sound.

Crisp.

Clean.

It somehow meant the appointment had properly begun.

Kate wrapped the soft tissue neatly around my neck with practiced hands before reaching for one of the bright pink barber capes hanging beside her station.

She flicked it open.

The satin snapped gently through the air before floating down over my shoulders and lap.

I’d forgotten how oddly comforting that felt.

The cape settled around me like it always did.

A second later I felt Kate fastening it snugly behind my neck.

Click.

Perfect.

She smoothed the fabric across my shoulders almost absent-mindedly before walking around to face me.

Her blue eyes immediately found my hair.

She folded her arms, a

teasing smile spread across her face.

“Maya Jennings…”

I laughed.

“What?”

Kate reached up and ran her fingers through the longer hair on top, lifting it away from my forehead before letting it fall back into place.

“It has absolutely no business being this long.”

“It’s barely grown.”

“Oh?”

She rubbed a thumb over the faded undercut around my right temple before tracing it down towards my ear.

“It’s fluffy.”

“I know.”

“The fade’s almost disappeared.”

“I know.”

“The neckline’s grown out.”

“I know.”

Kate folded her arms.

“And yet…”

I smiled innocently.

“…I’ve been busy?”

She laughed.

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s true.”

She tilted her head, studying the haircut from both sides.

The longer textured top had grown enough that it was beginning to lose the crisp shape she’d given it a month earlier, while the fade around my ears had softened into a fuzzy shadow instead of the clean blend it usually was.

It wasn’t untidy.

Not to most people.

But to Kate…

It was overdue.

“It’s been…” she said thoughtfully.

“Four weeks.”

“Four and a half.”

“So basically five.”

I rolled my eyes.

“That’s not how time works.”

“It is in a barbershop.”

She smiled before running her fingers through the top again, lifting sections, checking how they fell naturally.

Unlike with Ellie, there was no careful evaluation.

No figuring out what would suit me.

Kate already knew.

She’d been cutting my hair for years.

She knew every cowlick.

Every stubborn section.

Every place where my hair naturally wanted to sit.

Finally she nodded once.

“Nothing dramatic today.”

I smiled.

“Exactly what I wanted.”

“A proper tidy.”

She tapped the faded side of my head gently.

“We’ll tighten all this back up.”

Another tap on the top.

“Take a little off here.”

Her finger traced around the back of my head.

“Refresh the fade.”

Then she smiled.

“And you’ll leave looking like Maya Jennings again.”

I couldn’t help laughing.

“That’s why I keep coming back.”

Kate grinned.

“I know.”

Behind us, Ellie was still watching quietly from the bench.

I caught her reflection.

Her hand had somehow wandered back to the side of her head again.

I smiled to myself.

She was still completely enchanted by her new haircut.

Kate followed my gaze and chuckled softly.

“She’s not going to stop doing that for at least a week.”

“I know,” I laughed.

Kate picked up the large paddle brush from her station and stepped behind me.

The first stroke started at my forehead and swept smoothly backwards over the top of my head.

The soft bristles glided through the longer hair, brushing it neatly back into place.

Unlike Ellie’s hair, there wasn’t much length to work through anymore.

Just enough that it had started losing its shape.

Kate brushed it back again.

Then a third time.

Each stroke felt slow, familiar and oddly relaxing.

“So,” she said casually, “what’s your excuse this month?”

I smiled.

“I don’t have one.”

“Liar.”

I laughed.

“I’ve just been busy.”

Kate gave another long brush through the top before letting the hair fall naturally.

“Maya Jennings, what have you been busy with?”

I shrugged.

“Work, mostly.”

“Still at the design studio?”

I nodded.

“We’ve had three deadlines land almost on top of each other.”

Kate winced sympathetically.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve basically lived in front of a computer for the last month.”

“Alright, that’s a valid reason,” Kate teased.

“And then by the time the weekend came around…”

“You couldn’t be bothered getting your haircut.”

“Nooo, I was too tired,” I corrected.

“I’m only messing with you.”

She continued brushing through the longer top, watching how it settled each time.

“So…”

She glanced at me through the mirror.

“Still enjoying it?”

“The job?”

“Mhm.”

I nodded.

“I actually am.”

“Good.”

She smiled.

“You complained about the last place every single time you sat in this chair.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“You absolutely did.”

Kate lowered the brush and leaned lightly against the station.

“And Ellie?”

That made me smile almost immediately.

“What about her?”

“You’ve known each other a long time.”

“Since university.”

Kate raised an eyebrow.

“And you’ve finally managed to convince her to let me cut all her hair off.”

“I wouldn’t say convinced.”

“No?”

“I more… brought her here.”

Kate laughed.

“I noticed.”

I grinned.

“I knew if anyone could get her to trust a dramatic haircut, it’d be you.”

“High praise.”

“It’s true.”

Kate looked over towards the waiting bench.

Ellie was still watching the shop, occasionally reaching up to brush her fingertips over the faded side of her head before catching herself.

Kate smiled fondly.

“She’s wearing it well.”

“I know.”

“I honestly wasn’t expecting you to go that short.”

“Neither was she.”

We both laughed.

Kate picked the brush up again.

“I’ll admit…”

She brushed the top backwards once more.

“…when I first saw all that blonde hair, I did wonder if she’d panic halfway through.”

“I wondered that too.”

“But she didn’t.”

“No.”

“She trusted you.”

Kate was quiet for a second.

Then she smiled.

“I appreciated that.”

“So did she.”

I looked over at Ellie again.

She caught me looking and smiled.

A proper smile.

The kind I hadn’t seen from her in quite a while.

Kate noticed too.

“She looks happier.”

“She does.”

“And…”

Kate smirked slightly.

“I noticed she spent most of the morning staring at me.”

Heat immediately rose to my cheeks.

“Oh God…”

Kate laughed.

“I wasn’t complaining.”

“I am never letting her live that down.”

“Be nice.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Kate gave the top one final brush backwards before setting the paddle brush neatly onto the station.

“There.”

She picked up her black barber’s comb and slid it through the top of my hair, combing everything straight back with practiced precision.

Then she reached for a silver sectioning clip.

Click.

She gathered the longer top into a neat section, twisted it once and clipped it securely on top of my head.

Immediately, only my grown-out fade and undercut remained exposed.

Kate studied it for a moment before lightly brushing a thumb over the fuzzy hair above my ear.

“That’s much better.”

She smiled.

“Now…”

Her hand moved towards the clipper station beneath the mirror.

“…let’s deal with everything you’ve been neglecting for the last four and a half weeks.”

The familiar weight settled naturally into her hand.

She turned them over once, checking the blade almost absent-mindedly before opening the drawer beneath the mirror.

Inside, rows of colour-coded guards sat neatly arranged.

Without hesitation she reached for one.

Click.

The guard snapped cleanly onto the blade.

She gave it a small tug to make sure it was seated properly.

Satisfied, she closed the drawer with her hip.

“You know,” I said, watching her in the mirror, “I still love that sound.”

“The guard?”

“The click.”

Kate smiled.

“I know.”

“It’s reassuring.”

“It means you’re in safe hands.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

She laughed softly.

“I’ve been doing your hair long enough.”

“You have.”

She rolled the clippers once in her palm before resting them loosely at her side.

Then she met my eyes in the mirror.

“Ready?”

I smiled.

“As always.”

“Good.”

Kate shifted behind the chair, her free hand resting lightly against the top of my shoulder as she positioned herself.

The atmosphere around us seemed to settle.

The conversations from the rest of the shop drifted into the background.

Music continued playing softly overhead.

Sam laughed at something one of her clients had said.

Anna’s clippers hummed steadily a few stations away.

For me, though…

Everything narrowed to the familiar ritual I’d experienced dozens of times before.

Kate’s hand.

The chair.

The clippers.

She wrapped her fingers comfortably around the clipper body.

Then pressed the switch with her thumb.

BZZZZZZT.

The familiar hum filled the space behind me.

Warm.

Steady.

Comfortingly familiar.

I couldn’t help smiling. “There it is.”

Kate grinned. “There it is.”

She gave the running clippers a tiny experimental movement in the air beside my shoulder, listening to the even tone of the motor before stepping into position behind me.

“Let’s make you respectable again.”

Certainly. Adding more descriptive dialogue tags helps reinforce the dynamic between Kate and Maya and keeps the flow closer to your chosen writing style.

---

Kate stepped in behind me, the steady hum of the clippers filling the space around us.

BZZZZZZT.

Even after all these years, that sound still made me smile.

“Alright,” Kate said warmly from behind me, her voice carrying the easy confidence of someone who had done this hundreds of times before.

I met her eyes in the mirror for a brief moment.

“Head down.”

It wasn’t harsh.

Just calm.

Confident.

The sort of instruction that naturally expected to be followed.

I smiled to myself and lowered my chin.

Kate rested a hand lightly against the crown of my head.

“Little more,” she said softly.

I tipped my head further forward until all I could really see was the bright pink barber cape spread neatly across my lap.

“There we go.”

Her palm remained against the top of my head.

Firm enough that I instinctively stayed exactly where she’d positioned me.

Years of sitting in Kate’s chair meant I trusted those little adjustments without thinking.

She always knew the angle she wanted.

“Perfect,” Kate murmured, sounding pleased.

A heartbeat later, I felt the warm body of the clippers touch the nape of my neck.

Then—

BZZZZZZT.

The vibration travelled straight through my skin.

I’d forgotten how satisfying that first pass always felt.

Kate guided the clippers smoothly upward through the soft growth at the back of my head, the guard gliding effortlessly against my scalp before flicking away at precisely the right point.

The overgrown hair offered the slightest resistance.

Then it disappeared.

Tiny clipped hairs tickled the back of my neck before floating gently onto the cape below.

Kate reset the clippers at my neckline.

Without saying anything, she began another measured pass.

BZZZZZZT.

This stroke climbed a little higher.

The vibration followed the curve of my head before lifting away again.

A soft clump of brunette hair drifted into my lap.

I watched it settle against the vivid pink satin.

Not long strands like Ellie’s.

Just fluffy pieces from my grown-out fade.

Still…

There was something oddly satisfying about seeing them fall.

Kate smiled as she watched another small pile gather.

“I told you this had grown out,” she said with quiet amusement, never taking her eyes off her work.

I laughed softly, still looking down at the cape.

“You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Only once or twice?”

Kate teased. “I was thinking more like twenty.”

I smiled. “That sounds more accurate.”

Another smooth pass of the clippers sent more brunette hair tumbling onto my shoulders before sliding into my lap.

Kate’s hand remained steady on my head the entire time.

Comforting.

Controlled.

Professional.

“You’ve definitely kept me busy today,” Kate observed as she worked her way across the centre of my nape.

“I thought barbers liked repeat business.”

“Oh, I do.”

I heard the smile in her voice. “But I prefer my regulars to come back looking maintained, not… fluffy.”

I laughed again. “I knew you were going to use that word.”

“It’s the correct word.”

Kate flicked the clippers neatly away from my head before setting them back at the neckline.

“And look.”

She guided another clean strip upward.

BZZZZZZT.

“It was fluffy.”

“I’ll admit it.”

“You should.”

Another wave of soft brunette clippings drifted onto the cape, collecting in loose little piles around my lap.

Kate paused just long enough to brush a few stray hairs from the back of my neck with the backs of her fingers.

The gesture was quick.

Almost absent-minded.

“You still comfortable?” she asked, her voice gentler now.

“Mhm,” I replied contentedly.

“Good ‘mhm’ or bad ‘mhm’?”

“The good one.”

“I’ve learned there are different versions.”

“There definitely are.”

Kate rested one hand on the chrome handle beneath the armrest.

Without another word, she gently rotated the chair.

The hydraulic base turned with its familiar smoothness.

I slowly pivoted away from the mirror until I was facing the enormous front windows of Barber La Femme.

Beyond the glass, the afternoon carried on as though nothing unusual was happening.

People wandered along the pavement with shopping bags.

A woman pushed a pram past the shop.

Two students walked by, deep in conversation.

A few glanced inside automatically as they passed.

Most kept walking.

Some slowed for a moment, their eyes briefly taking in the bright, modern barbershop and the women seated beneath the vivid pink capes.

It never really bothered me anymore.

The first few times Kate had turned me towards the window I’d been painfully aware of everyone looking in.

Now…

It simply felt like part of the ritual.

Kate stepped around to my right-hand side.

“Perfect.”

Her left hand settled lightly against the side of my head.

“Head this way.”

She guided me with practiced confidence, tilting my head gently to the left until my right ear was fully exposed.

“There.”

I relaxed into the position without thinking.

Years of appointments meant my body almost anticipated her movements before she made them.

The clippers touched just in front of my right sideburn.

Then—

BZZZZZZT.

The vibration spread across the side of my head as Kate guided the guard upward in one smooth, controlled stroke.

The slightly overgrown hair disappeared instantly.

“I saw your post the other day,” Kate said casually, her attention never leaving the fade.

“Oh?”

“The one from the Peak District.”

I smiled.

“The hiking photos?”

“Mhm.”

Another pass.

BZZZZZZT.

“You actually managed to get a weekend off.”

“I know, it felt illegal.”

Kate laughed. “Worth it?”

“Completely.”

She worked neatly around my ear, her thumb folding it forward with practiced ease.

“I forgot how nice it is to be somewhere you can’t hear traffic.”

“You’ve always liked getting out of the city.”

“I need it sometimes.”

Another clean strip of hair fluttered down.

“What about you?” I asked.

“You ever take weekends off?”

Kate snorted.

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious.”

“I had last Sunday.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“You?”

“I know, I’m shocked too.”

I laughed. “What did you actually do?”

Kate smiled to herself. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

Another careful pass.

“I stayed home, read, watched terrible television and ignored my phone.”

“That sounds…” I paused.

“…very unlike you.”

“I needed it.”

I nodded.

“I get that.”

The clippers continued their steady rhythm.

BZZZZZZT.

Outside, two women walking past glanced through the window.

One pointed briefly towards the shop before they both smiled and continued along the street.

Kate barely noticed.

“So…” she said.

“How’s your mum?”

I smiled immediately.

“Better.”

“Good.”

“She finally finished decorating the kitchen.”

Kate laughed.

“Only took…”

“Seven months.”

“I was going to say six.”

“It became seven.”

“I remember hearing about that kitchen every appointment.”

“You weren’t the only one.”

Kate chuckled.

“I’ve been emotionally invested.”

“I’ll tell her that.”

“Please do.”

“She’ll love knowing her kitchen updates have become part of your haircut routine.”

“They genuinely have.”

She flicked the clippers neatly away from my head before beginning another pass.

“You know…”

“I still don’t think she’s forgiven me.”

“For what?”

Kate smiled innocently.

“The pixie.”

I laughed.

“Oh, she’s definitely forgiven you.”

“Really?”

“Eventually she admitted it suited me.”

Kate looked pleased.

“I knew she’d come around.”

“It only took about three years.”

“I can be patient.”

Another wave of brunette hair drifted onto the cape.

I glanced down at it.

“You’ve probably cut more of my hair over the years than anyone else.”

Kate smiled.

“I’d hope so.”

“I’ve been maintaining this haircut for…”

She paused thoughtfully.

“…four years now?”

“Just over.”

“Has it really been that long?”

“It has.”

I couldn’t help smiling.

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

“No.”

Kate blended carefully around the curve of my ear.

“Still one of my favourite transformations, though.”

I looked up.

“Really?”

She nodded.

“You walked in wanting ‘something different.'”

“I remember.”

“You left looking like yourself.”

That made me smile more than I expected.

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Kate laughed softly.

“I have my moments.”

She finished one final pass around my right side before lifting the clippers away.

“There.”

She stepped back to admire her work.

The right side already looked noticeably sharper.

Cleaner.

Exactly like I remembered.

Kate smiled with quiet satisfaction.

“Right.”

She rested a hand lightly against the back of the chair.

“Let’s match the other side.”

The chair began to turn.

Slowly.

Smoothly.

The front windows drifted out of my view as the hydraulic base rotated beneath me, carrying me back through the centre of the shop.

Past the mirrors.

Past the shelves lined with pomades, shampoos and styling products.

Until I was facing into Barber La Femme once more.

It was a view I always enjoyed.

The whole shop seemed alive.

Music drifted softly through the speakers overhead, mixing with the gentle hum of conversation and the steady chorus of clippers.

In the next chair, Sam was standing behind one of her regulars, her clippers working confidently around the woman’s nape while they chatted about holiday plans as though nothing unusual was happening.

Next to her,

Anna was carefully blending the side of another client’s short haircut, her comb moving with practiced precision before the clippers followed.

Every chair was occupied.

Every barber completely absorbed in her work.

Pink capes everywhere.

Loose hair scattered across the polished floor beneath each station.

There was something strangely calming about it all.

Kate stepped around to my left side.

She smiled when she caught me watching everyone else.

“I know,” she said quietly.

“It’s a nice view.”

“It really is.”

“You’ve built something special here.”

She smiled, almost bashfully. “Yeah, this was always my aim.”

Her hand settled gently against the side of my head, guiding me to the right. “Head over for me.”

I followed the familiar pressure without hesitation.

Her fingers spread lightly against the side of my head, steady but never uncomfortable.

“Perfect.”

She adjusted my position by barely half an inch before nodding to herself.

Then the

clippers touched beside my left ear.

Then—

BZZZZZZT.

The familiar vibration spread across the side of my head as Kate guided them upward.

Soft brunette hair lifted away beneath the guard before drifting onto my shoulder.

Some settled against the bright pink cape.

The rest slipped quietly into my lap.

“So,” Kate asked casually as she began another careful pass, “are you still planning that Scotland trip?”

I smiled.

“We finally booked it.”

“You did?”

“Mhm.”

“September.”

Kate sounded genuinely pleased. “Oh, that’ll be gorgeous.”

“That’s what we’re hoping.”

“You’ll get rain.”

“I’ve accepted that.”

“And wind.”

“I’ve accepted that too.”

“And probably one day of sunshine,” Kate teased.

“I’ll treasure it.”

Kate laughed. “That’s the spirit.”

Another pass.

BZZZZZZT.

More brunette clippings floated gently down onto the cape.

I watched absent-mindedly as they collected across the vivid pink fabric.

It never really ceased to amaze me how much hair seemed to come off during what was, technically, just a maintenance appointment.

Kate worked around my ear with effortless precision.

Her thumb folded the top of my ear forward slightly as the clippers swept neatly behind it.

Tiny hairs brushed my cheek before drifting away.

Across the shop, Ellie was still sitting on the bench.

She’d stopped touching her own hair now.

Instead she was watching every station with quiet fascination.

Every so often our eyes met.

She’d smile.

Then immediately look back towards whoever was using clippers.

I laughed softly.

Kate noticed.

“What?”

I nodded towards Ellie.

“I think she’s watching every haircut in the shop.”

Kate glanced over briefly before smiling. “Not surprised.”

“She’s only been here an hour.”

“I know, but once you’ve had a proper haircut at a barbershop…”

She guided another smooth pass up the side of my head.

“…you’re hooked for life.”

I laughed.

“You’re probably right.”

Another soft curtain of brunette hair slipped from above my ear, brushing against my shoulder before settling onto the cape.

The pile around my lap grew steadily thicker.

Kate’s movements never hurried.

Each pass overlapped the last with quiet precision, rebuilding the clean fade section by section until the fluffy growth that had softened my haircut over the last month simply disappeared beneath the steady hum of the clippers.

She leaned back slightly to study her work.

Then stepped in again for one final pass around my temple.

BZZZZZZT.

The last few soft clippings drifted down onto my shoulder.

Kate brushed them away with the back of her fingers almost absent-mindedly before lifting the clippers clear.

“There.”

She smiled at my reflection in the mirror opposite.

“That’s both sides brought back under control.”

I glanced across at Ellie again.

She gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up from the bench.

Kate reached down to her station and switched the clippers off.

The sudden silence felt surprisingly noticeable after the steady buzz that had filled the last few minutes.

She looked down at the clippers in her hand.

“For you…”

She pressed the release tab on the guard.

Click.

The attachment came away cleanly.

Then she reached into the neatly organised row of guards beneath the mirror.

Her fingers hovered for only a moment before selecting a smaller one.

Another precise—

Click.

The new guard locked firmly into place, giving it a gently tug to make sure its seated properly before meeting my eyes in the mirror again.

“Time to tighten everything up.”

“My favourite part,” I grinned.

Kate stepped behind me once more.

“Head down.”

I lowered my chin.

Then I felt her fingertips settle lightly against the crown of my head, resting there comfortably.

Years of appointments meant I barely noticed the gesture anymore.

It was simply how Kate worked.

The clippers came back to life.

BZZZZZZT.

The tone sounded subtly different now.

Higher.

A little sharper.

The smaller guard settled gently against the very bottom of my neckline.

“This is the bit that disappears fastest,” Kate said conversationally as she positioned the clippers.

“So this is the bit you complain about first?”

“Exactly.”

The first upward flick was much shorter than before.

BZZZZZZT.

Instead of travelling halfway up my head, Kate worked only along the lowest part of the fade, using quick, controlled strokes that barely extended beyond the nape.

The vibration felt slightly more concentrated.

Lighter.

More precise.

Tiny dark hairs floated onto the cape—much finer than before.

I smiled.

“I’d forgotten how different that feels.”

“It’s always amazing,” Kate agreed.

She continued running the clippers around the base of my head with patient precision, each upward flick overlapping the last just enough to soften the transition.

The movements were almost hypnotic.

Short.

Rhythmic.

Consistent.

BZZZZZZT.

BZZZZZZT.

BZZZZZZT.

Every few passes, she’d lean back for a second, studying the blend from different angles before stepping in again.

Never rushed.

Never guessing.

Always checking.

I caught Ellie watching from the bench again.

She seemed fascinated by how little hair was actually coming off now compared to earlier.

Kate noticed where I was looking.

“Different stage now.”

Ellie nodded.

“So you’re not really making it shorter?”

Kate smiled.

“A tiny bit, but mostly I’m making it smoother.”

She guided another careful flick upward from the neckline.

“A good fade isn’t about taking lots of hair off.”

“It’s about making it look like the hair naturally changes length.”

Ellie watched intently.

“I never realised how much work goes into it.”

Kate laughed softly.

“Most people don’t, they just think ‘short back and sides.'”

Another series of gentle flicks followed as she worked her way around the right side of my nape, blending the shortest section seamlessly into what she’d already cut.

More tiny brunette clippings dusted the bright pink cape.

“You know,” I said, “Ellie’s going to start analysing everyone’s fades now.”

Kate grinned.

“I hope so.”

“That’s how it starts.”

Ellie laughed from the bench.

“I already caught myself looking at someone’s haircut when they walked past the window.”

“There you go,” Kate replied.

“Occupational side effect.”

“I don’t even work here.”

“You’ve been converted.”

I smiled.

“I did warn you.”

Kate finished another sequence of precise blending strokes before switching the clippers off for a moment.

Silence settled around us again.

She stepped back, looking from one side of my head to the other, then gave a satisfied nod.

“Much better.”

The base of the fade looked cleaner already—crisp at the neckline, melting gradually into the longer section above.

Exactly the kind of subtle difference that most people would never consciously notice.

But once you knew what to look for…

You couldn’t stop seeing it.

“I expect to see you both back in my chair.”

Ellie glanced at me.

Then back at Kate.

“I think that’s manageable.”

“I’d call it compulsory,” Kate replied with a grin.

I laughed as both me and Ellie started walking to the door.

Kate gave us both a small wave before turning back towards her station, already tidying her tools for the next appointment.

Ellie and I pushed open the front door together.

The little bell above it chimed softly.

Late afternoon sunlight spilled across the pavement as we stepped outside.

The warm breeze immediately found the freshly clipped sides of my head, making me smile.

Beside me, Ellie instinctively reached up to feel her own haircut again.

I caught her doing it.

She caught me doing exactly the same thing.

For a moment we simply looked at each other.

Then we both burst out laughing as we walked away from the shop together, still unable to stop touching our new hair.

The drive home was much quieter than the journey to the barbershop.

Not awkward.

Comfortable.

The sort of silence that only existed between two people who didn’t feel the need to fill every gap with conversation.

The radio played softly in the background as the city drifted past outside the windows.

Every so often one of us would point out something we’d seen or make a quiet comment, but mostly we just enjoyed the peace after an afternoon that had been far more eventful than either of us had expected.

Eventually Ellie looked across at me and smiled.

“I still can’t believe today actually happened.”

I laughed quietly.

“I can.”

“You’ve been trying to get me into that shop for months.”

“I knew you’d like it.”

She leaned back into her seat, looking thoughtful.

“…You were right.”

I gave her an exaggerated look of triumph.

“I’m framing that sentence.”

“Oh, don’t get used to it.”

---

Back at my flat, everything immediately settled into its familiar rhythm.

Shoes were kicked off by the front door.

Jackets were draped over chairs.

The kettle went on almost automatically.

Ellie wandered into the living room while I sorted drinks, and by the time I joined her she was already curled up on one end of the sofa, looking far more relaxed than she had that morning.

“You hungry?” I asked.

“Always.”

We ordered takeaway instead of cooking.

It arrived sooner than expected, and we spent the next hour eating from cartons balanced on our knees while talking about everything except haircuts.

Work.

University.

People we’d grown up with.

The ridiculous things we’d done as teenagers.

Stories we’d somehow never told each other before.

More than once one of us laughed so hard we had to stop talking altogether.

At some point I realised I hadn’t looked at my phone in over an hour.

Neither had Ellie.

That felt… unusual.

And nice.

---

As the evening settled in, the light outside faded into deep blues and soft orange reflections on the windows.

We cleared away the takeaway cartons and eventually settled back onto the sofa, putting on a film we’d both seen enough times that neither of us really needed to pay attention.

The television filled the room with quiet voices and familiar music.

Rain had started outside, tapping gently against the glass.

The room felt warm.

Safe.

Neither of us spoke for a while.

We simply watched.

Or pretended to.

Without really thinking about it, I shifted a little closer along the sofa.

Not much.

Just enough that our shoulders brushed.

Ellie didn’t move away.

If anything, she relaxed a little more.

I smiled to myself.

After another few minutes, I rested my arm along the back of the sofa behind her.

She glanced sideways at me briefly.

There wasn’t any uncertainty in her expression.

Just a small smile.

Almost absent-mindedly, she leaned into my side.

The movement felt so natural that I barely thought about it.

I wrapped my arm gently around her shoulders.

She settled comfortably against me, resting her head against my shoulder as though she’d always belonged there.

Neither of us commented on it.

There didn’t seem to be any reason to.

I could feel her breathing gradually slow as we sat together watching the film.

Outside, the rain continued steadily.

Inside, everything felt calm.

After a while Ellie spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

“…This has been one of the nicest days I’ve had in ages.”

I turned my head slightly towards her.

“I’m glad.”

“So am I.”

Silence settled between us again.

Not empty.

Comfortable.

The kind that only happened when words weren’t really necessary anymore.

Without thinking, I rested my cheek lightly against the top of her head.

She responded by shifting just a little closer.

Neither of us questioned it.

Neither of us pulled away.

By the time the credits rolled, we were still sitting exactly the same way.

Curled up together beneath the soft glow of the television, listening to the rain outside.

Nothing had been officially said.

Nothing had been defined.

But somewhere during the drive home, the shared laughter over dinner, and the quiet evening spent together on the sofa, something had quietly changed.

It wasn’t dramatic.

It didn’t need to be.

It simply felt as though we’d both, without realising it, started thinking of “us” instead of “me” and “you.”

And for both of us, that felt entirely natural.