Overeager

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I scoured the basement level of the mall, searching for this rumoured place. I wasn’t one to listen closely to locker room talk, let alone those originating from the guys. But when the word travelled on this, I couldn’t help but have my curiosity piqued. 

Joining the badminton team this semester at university has been a really new experience for me. I’d never really dabbled in competitive sports before, and now that I was having the time of my life, I really wanted to push myself further. If there was one thing I’d really been wanting for myself, it was a change for my hair. Having it long just felt rather impractical, and I’d been wanting to cut it shorter just to have something less annoying to take care of while I focused more on my badminton games. The thing is, my usual salon didn’t really have the same “definition” of short that I did.

It was upsetting, how I tried and failed to get something appropriately short— all I could get was a lob that had its longest layers touching the lower part of my collarbone. I tried to suggest something shorter, but the stylist said it would’ve been “too short” to suit me. Bullshit. 

It didn’t help that it was back to shoulder-length in about a month given how goddamned fast my wavy hair loved to grow. I was so annoyed by it that the moment I’d heard of this other place to try my luck, I’d happily taken matters into my hands to snip off a fair bit of my ponytail the night before I went out to give it a go. I remember my partner watching in awe as I remorselessly severed a good section of my hair with the safety scissors, dangling the mini ponytail for her to see before tossing it in the bin.

And then here I was, searching this not too popular mall in the outskirts of town for this fabled place. From what I heard, the place was a sort of unisex barbershop that was ran by a woman, and she catered to all. But what really pushed me over the line was how she was known for giving proper short haircuts— that most that have been there never really leave disappointed. Sure, some of these anecdotes I’ve heard the rumours from were of guys, but it came to a point where I was willing to try anything. 

So I picked a nice Thursday afternoon to do it, where the weather was really chilly outside but didn’t really seem like it was going to rain. I dressed myself in my tights and navy blue tank top, thinking that if this didn’t work out somehow I could at least go for a nice run. And if it did, well, that meant I’d have a cooler and shorter haircut to enjoy my run with. 

I searched high and low for a good fifteen minutes, then I saw it— the red-white swirly pole. It was a thing most barbershops had I guess, though I wasn’t really sure why. I took a deep breath as I got closer, nervously inspecting the place. It seemed like any other barbershop from the outside— it had a glass window with the title “UNISEX BARBERSHOP” plastered in the middle, and inside it was two barber chairs and a waiting bench on the opposite side. 

And there she was— this ‘barberette’ of sorts that I heard about— standing by the workstation closer to the window, fiddling with some equipment. I eased myself, taking a moment to absorb it all before I decided to step inside. This was definitely one of the more impulsive ideas I’ve had in awhile, and I knew this wasn’t going to just be a simple trim other. I took one last deep breath, then reached out to the handle. 

A little bell on the door rang as I entered, and she turned to regard me. “Hello,” she greeted in a rather motherly voice, which wasn’t too surprising now that I got to inspect her a little closer. I’d say she was rather middle-aged— a youthful guise to her face yet there was still a hint of the beginnings of wrinkles. She was definitely not unattractive, with her stark red lipstick brightly accentuating her features. Her ebony hair was tied up neatly in a short ponytail, and she was clad in a black sort of jacket-smock with pants. 

“Hi,” I returned the greeting, gently closing the door behind me.

“Haircut, yeah? Come, have a seat,” she said in a rather instructive tone, turning her red leather barber chair to face me and patting it on the back. 

“Uh- yeah,” I said, instinctively moving forward to obey. I was caught a little off-guard that she was jumping right into business. But then again, this was a barbershop— I wouldn’t expect it to have the same dilly-dally nature of most salons. 

I steadied myself on the footrest before carefully lowering myself into the chair, which was a lot bigger than those from the salons. I casually rested my hands on the wide armrests, taking in this foreign feeling in the barber chair. She spun the chair around to face the mirror which I realised had a name plate above it— ‘Jenny’. Just below the mirror was the dresser where all sorts of equipment were arranged neatly— a few pairs of scissors, spray bottle, razor, combs, and some smaller-looking sort of combs?

I inspected my reflection in the mirror, taking in the potentially last image of me with a decent length of hair. My wavy hair was roughly parted to the left, grazing just past my chin— almost at the same length that I had after the salon trip, though it was definitely rather uneven given my lack of precision when cutting the previous night. I was never really one to be overly sentimental about hair— I always sort of kept it the same my whole life, just with maybe a few layers or so once in a while to keep things interesting with the waviness. I guess that was why it wasn’t too big a deal to decide to just get it cut short to make it easier for training. And I so hope today was going to be the day I could get it done properly.

I was snapped back into reality when I felt her warm hands on my shoulders. She gently pushed them back into the chair, easing my body into the backrest. I watched through the mirror as she wrapped a piece of neck tissue around my neck, a step not common in salons. She unhooked a rich purple cape before flinging it majestically over me. The cloth smoothly whooshed over my bodice, just as Jenny promptly buttoned up the cape at the back of my neck snugly. With a hand smoothed out the cape evenly as it fully draped my figure and the chair, and all that was left to see was my running shoes at the bottom along with my head of hair poking out from the top. 

She proceeded to pick up one of the black combs from the dresser, combing through my wavy locks as she inspected my head of hair.

“Short?” Jenny asked simply as she looked at me through the mirror, cutting straight into the action.

“Uhh— yeah,” I agreed despite the ambiguity, taken aback at how direct she was. I guess maybe this was how everyone else just went with it.

“Good,” she remarked, almost sounding as if she was praising me for making the ‘right choice’. She gave my hair a slight ruffle before going to the cabinet to pick up her equipment.

I wasn’t used to the ‘consultation’ phase going that fast, but I definitely wasn’t going to complain. Whatever she had planned, she definitely didn’t seem like the type who would be fussed if I asked for shorter— especially given that she suggested short in the first place. This was a good start— and maybe this was actually going to finally work out for me.

I couldn’t contain my excitement as I got out my phone from under to snap a quick picture of myself all caped up in the mirror, sort of like a ‘before’ picture. I sent the image to my partner, letting her know I was already in the chair and that I’d probably see her back at our dorm room after her evening class. She was probably the only one that knew of this wild idea I had, and I was rather surprised she was actually supportive of it rather than dismissing it as just another radical thought. 

“If you think it’ll be good, why not? I think it’s exciting!” Her words of encouragement from the night before rang in my ears.

I quickly put my phone back under the cape when Jenny came back around, now armed with a pair clippers in hand. I’d never had my hair cut by the clippers before, though I had seen them being used from time to time at the salon for some short haircuts. I knew it was meant to cut hair really short, and today I was actually going to have the privilege of being on the receiving end. There was something about it that was mildly intimidating— big and black with its cord sticking out the back connected to the wall plug, along with its silvery bladed head that looked so sharp.

She flicked a switch with a ‘pop’, which followed with a menacing droning sound that filled the room. My stomach was starting to twist into knots now as the second thoughts were formulating. I forced myself to look right ahead, straightening my back to try and quell the doubts. As scary as this might seem, I knew I still wanted this. 

She started by turning the chair to the left, making me face the back of the shop while she took her position between the mirror and the chair. She began running the comb through my hair once more, this time laying out my waves to her liking before settling on my right side. With the comb she pulled out a section of my hair, and with the clippers she simply dove right in.

Bzzzaaaaa

I couldn’t help but smile like an idiot when the blades simply severed right through the hair that poked out of the comb, watching as my brown locks fell onto the cape. She continued doing this on the right side— lifting up a section of hair before sweeping the clippers right across the teeth in quick fashion, rinsing and repeating. I heard the stark crash of the clipper blades against my hair as it sliced through, and it was becoming like music to my ears. She was very quick and efficient, and in less than a few minutes a good collection of my wavy hair was already littering the cape and my shoulder. I could barely glance at the mirror given her figure in the way— but I’d assume my hair looked rather comical with my hair all short around my right ear while the left side was still much longer.

She then swiveled me and the chair ninety degrees to the left once more, making me face the waiting area. With her warm hands she tilted my head straightforward, ready to start on the back. I felt her running the comb up my hair, neatening out her entry point before she dove in. 

Bzzaaaaa. Bzzzaaaa.

I felt my locks of hair slide down my neck, and I couldn’t help but chuckle feeling the tickle when she swept off the stray hairs that stayed. She didn’t hesitate at all as she cut across, and I could feel a sort of weight just being freed from my head as I could start feeling a little breeze on my scalp.

It wasn’t long before she was done at the back, and she swiveled me yet again to the left to make me face the big window of the shop. This seemed to be her style— stayed completely grounded while she moved me and my head around to suit her as she worked. I glanced back at her once in a while, realising she had seemed completely unbothered as she cut the bulk of my wavy locks. I wonder if she’s sheared many long-haired customers short.

Bzzaaaaa. Bzzzaaaa. 

All I could see was locks of my chestnut hair falling lifelessly onto the purple cape, with some of it sliding off the cloth and onto the floor. I’ve probably never seen so much severed hair just lying about before, but god it was exhilarating to know this was gonna be the first proper short haircut I was going to get. I just couldn’t wait to be rid of this burdensome hair for a bit. 

After the last few passes of the clipper over comb on my left, all I could feel was wisps of my hair barely touching my earlobes and not a single lock even close to touching my chin. When she was happy, Jenny swiveled me back to the front, and I could finally see how it was looking as she moved aside to fiddle with her tools. It was definitely a new sight— seeing myself with a rough wedge-like bob around my ears that was practically the least amount of hair I’ve ever had in my life. It almost reminded me of those really chic Gatsby bobs, just not as refined and a little too wavy. I wondered if she was going to leave it around this length— it definitely was a gigantic improvement from the salon cut I got, but a big part of me just knew she was far from done.

“That’s the bulk of it out of the way. We’ll clean it up properly now,” Jenny unwittingly answered my silent question before returning back to her cabinet. 

I replied with an “mhm”, though I was sure my input was hardly of any concern now with how focused she appeared throughout. I quickly got my phone out while she was away for the moment, taking a quick snap of how I looked in the mirror. I probably wasn’t going to see myself with a bob for a while anyway, so I guess this was a sight to capture— though I wasn’t going to send it to my partner just for the sake of preserving suspense. Instead, I took a sort of artsy shot of the hair that was all over the cape and sent it to her along with a little message “no turning back now :p”. I put my phone back under the cape just as Jenny returned— the clippers still in her hand, though with a red-coloured sort of mini comb in her other hand. I saw her fitting it on the clippers’ head, realising it was some sort of attachment just as her finger flicked the device back on. 

Pop. Bzzzzz.

The drone filled the room once more, though now I was at least a bit more accustomed to its unrelenting sound. She turned me to the left once more and settled to start on my right side yet again, though this time with only her fingers to guide my hair instead of the comb. This time she positioned the clippers right around my cheekbone, and I could feel the humming of it on my skull. My senses were in full attention of the bladed device as she casually brought it up towards the temples.

Bzzzzaaaaa.

I could hear the blades of the clippers shifting tune as it was chewing through my hair. I tried my best to glance to the right, catching a glimpse of my wavy hair being stripped off and falling onto the cape as Jenny made the pass up, the blades tickling my scalp as they cut through. She stopped just shy of the crown, using her free hand to sweep the locks onto the cape as she began another pass. 

Bzzzaaaa. Bzzzaaaa. Bzzzaaaa. 

I was completely mesmerised as she so efficiently sheared my right side. All I could do was quietly wait as I saw my wavy tresses unceremoniously plunging onto the cape like a waterfall, unsure of what was left behind. If the decently long locks that were sheared were any indication, this was probably going to be extremely short. I could feel the air-conditioning breezing through my exposed right side and ear now— a refreshing yet terrifying realisation. What in the word did I get myself into?

I barely had the time to register what kind of damage I’d gotten into when she swiveled me to the left on beat. She was quick to guide my head down— this time almost forcing my chin into my chest as all I was left with was the sight of the purple cloth that draped me. She started on the neckline, firmly moving the clippers up into my nape.

Bzzzaaaa. Bzzzzaaa. Bzzzaaa. 

I fiddled with the armrests in anxiousness, somehow just able to feel my hair being peeled off the scalp so gruesomely by the blades. I could feel the locks gathering at the back of my shoulders, to which Jenny nonchalantly swept them forward for me to watch tumble onto my cape-covered lap.

 

It didn’t take long before I could feel the air-conditioning breeze freely up my nape, and at this point I was starting to accept that I was probably going to be nearly scalped by Jenny. She swiveled me once more to the left, lifting my head back up to dive into the left section.

She started at my cheekbones yet again, propelling the clippers into the last hairy section. If I had to be honest, the clippers did feel kinda nice on my skin. As terrifying as it was thinking that I was getting scalped, at least there was a little consolation. I wondered what it was going to be like walking out of the barbershop with nearly shaved sides— was she giving me a sort of undercut? I glanced up at my fringe that still sort of hung over my face, dreading what she had planned for the top. I genuinely wouldn’t be surprised if she had just decided to run the clippers on top as well— then I’d truly be a scalped girl by the end of this. That’ll serve me right for being so overeager to leave things vaguely in Jenny’s hands. 

Jenny was soon running the clippers all over the sides and back once more, swiveling me a little here and there to clean up the earlier sections. Once done, I heard the droning end as the clippers were shut off.

“Feels better already, doesn’t it?” Jenny commented, dusting off the back and sides with a free hand. I bit my lip as I felt her hands so close to my skin, wondering how short the stubble left behind could’ve been.

“Yea,” I replied, though I wouldn’t say I was completely lying about how it felt. It definitely was a lot lighter and cooler than when I first came in, but it still didn’t change how terrified I was about the end result to come.

“Must’ve been a pain keeping all that hair so long. And it must be so hard to have to comb it with it being so wavy” she remarked as I heard a snap something onto the clippers, all while I was still sort of facing the shop window diagonally— still angled away from any sight of the mirror . “But don’t worry dear, you won’t have to worry about it for a long time,” she assured ominously.

She flicked the clippers back on, and this time I could see it had a light blue sort of attachment on its head that was pretty thick. This time she started on my back, this time moving up higher than the occipital bone. The clippers kept going up dangerously close to my crown, and my heart skipped a beat as I realised its final trajectory.

Bzzzaaaa. Bzzzzzaaaa.

Like a nightmare come true, I bit my lip as I felt the blades rush over the top of my head. I grabbed the armrests as I slowly accepted my fate, realising it was going to be the end of my hair for a while now. Of course getting a decent short haircut in a barbershop was just going to be too good to be true— I felt like an unwitting victim to a genie’s devious wishing scheme. As petrifying as the clippers were running across my head of hair, I realised the tufts of hair that were falling were much shorter than the ones that fell while she did the sides. Perhaps this clipper attachment wasn’t taking too much off? It was wishful thinking at this point, and it was all I really had to go on while she sheared me like a sheep.

Jenny methodically ran the clippers across my crown, starting from the back and working her way in horizontal sections towards the front. The clippers edged scarily towards my forehead, and I started squinted in anticipation of my fringe getting shaved right off. I waited, and waited… but she never got that close. The clippers were soon shut off, and my long fringe was surprisingly still intact. Was this some sort of mercy? I heard the click of her removing the attachment before she returned to my side, flicking the clippers back on. She swiveled me to face the window of the shop, and in her hands were the bare clippers and a comb once more. 

She fitted the comb through the intersection of my left side and crown, running the clippers over the teeth as she was probably blending in the two sections. Every so often I glanced to see that very careful look on her face as she meticulously worked. The blending in didn’t take long as she swiveled me around, evening out the back and right side eventually. She then set aside the comb, this time inverting the clippers as I felt the sharp blades munching at the hairline on my sides. She slowly moved me around as she worked, shaping my neckline and the sideburns completely to her fancy. 

Soon enough the clippers were shut off, this time indefinitely. While she fiddled with her other tools, I was super tempted to just get my hands out from under the cape, turn around and see the progress of the damage. But a small part of me just wanted to wait— I knew it just wasn’t going to help my nerves if she wasn’t done yet. So I steeled myself, staring at that waiting bench that I guess I was glad was empty for the entirety of my haircut. Having an audience watch this much hair being lost probably would’ve been dramatic.

Jenny returned with her comb and a pair of scissors— the first time I’d ever seen her wield the primary instrument of my past haircuts. I felt her comb up a section before grabbing it with her forefingers, holding it at her desired height before I heard the light snip snip. Jenny kept repeating this motion— combing up, holding it with her fingers, then snipping right off. She worked really quickly here, shearing off what was left on top like clockwork. More than anything, I was surprised there was even enough hair for her to grab onto with her fingers like that. Feeling how close her fingers were to my scalp definitely wasn’t helping the dread of being scalped, though right now it felt like I was just mentally preparing myself for the eventual shock of seeing myself almost bald.

She soon swiveled me diagonally towards the front, though her figure was grounded firmly in front of the mirror this time, preventing me from getting a glimpse of myself. 

“You part your hair to the left, yeah?” She asked as she combed down that last bit of lengthy fringe I still had which partially covered my eyes.

“Mhm,” I replied, unsure what that had to do with the situation. Was I even going to have enough hair to part?

Jenny laid my fringe out neatly, and I felt her aim the cold steel of the scissors rather high on my forehead. 

SNIP SNIP SNIP SNIP

I felt those last locks of my hair sliding down my face as my fringe was sliced diagonally downward towards the left. 

“Much better to have it off your eyes, isn’t it?” she half-chidingly asked, point cutting the ends of the fringe to her liking. “You’ll only wonder why you didn’t do this sooner.” I made a small sound of agreement in my throat, at this point just dying to see what it was going to look like.

She placed her tools back on the desk, maintaining her stance in front of me as she gave my hair one last look. She inspected my head of hair (or rather, what was left of it), her smile getting bigger as she seemed to be satisfied with her handiwork. “Very neat. Very nice,” she remarked, ruffling my hair again— though this time, I barely felt any hair moving. She nonchalantly shimmied to the side, anticlimactically triggering the reveal.

I was stunned. 

Hardly anything in the mirror was familiar. It was almost like staring at a complete stranger, seeing myself with barely any hair on my head. As per my suspicion, the sides were brutally short that I could actually see my skin. The top wasn’t much better, with my once-wavy locks now so short that they seemed rather spiky. She did leave a mini fringe for me that was parted to my left— probably the only hint of familiarity from my old look that remained. It was all so overwhelming that I didn’t really feel that dismal about my lost hair— just a little numb. There wasn’t much of a way to put it— regardless, it was still a short haircut. I asked for it, and I got it. 

“Is it short enough, dear?” Jenny asked as she held up a hand mirror at the back. I took a moment to inspect it, realising how bare my neck was which was all so foreign. “I can take it shorter if you like.”

“No no, it’s fine. It’s short enough,” I immediately assured her, my throat still dry from the ordeal. 

“I think shorter hair suits you better,” she commented with a smile as she hung the mirror on the back of the chair. “Such a pretty face shouldn’t need so much hair to distract. Your eyes are glowing now.”

More like popping out, I’d say. It was weird seeing how accentuated my features were now, but I guess she was actually right. I guess it was just something to get used to at this point.

She began dusting my neck and sides with a neck brush, and I couldn’t help but bite my lip as the bristles tickled my naked skin. The neck tissue and cape were undone, and whisked off with a flourish. I glanced down onto the floor, wistfully taking in all those messy waves that were on my head less than an hour ago— now simply severed and scattered all over.

I looked back up into the mirror one last time, suddenly remembering what else I had planned for the day when I realised I was wearing my running gear. I slowly got out from the chair, feeling lightheaded in more ways than one. I went up to the counter where she was now, fishing the cash I had in my little pouch to pay.

“Remember to come back in a few weeks to keep it short and neat,” she reminded as I walked to the door. All I could do was smile in return as I left. 

 

*

It was safe to say that I had the most cooling run I ever had in my life. The wind felt absolutely bonkers just running through my scalp so freely, and it was rather good knowing my hair was never at risk of swinging in front of my face. I also felt much lighter— as if my hair had been weighing me down all this while and that I could actually run faster. It was weird, but still a good weird I guess.

I reached my dorm just after sunset drenched in sweat. I swiftly made my way to my room, wary to avoid any familiar faces in the corridors. I just wasn’t ready to have to face anyone I knew with my new haircut yet— hell, I was still processing the new look. 

I jumped straight into the show, and hallelujah, I was not prepared for how it was going to feel. The warm water flowing freely all over my head was simply divine, and I felt like I was standing under the running water for hours just taking it all in. I probably would’ve spent the whole night just in the shower if it weren’t for Alice.

“I’m home!” I heard her call from the door as I broke from my reverie.

“In the shower!” I called out back to her as I started to wrap up. Thursdays meant she came home late from her evening classes— with takeaway dinner, of course.

As I stepped out of the shower I almost gave myself a heart attack looking in the mirror— I really needed to get used to how I looked sooner. At least drying my hair was a literal breeze now— a few pats of my head with the towel and it was just done. I was about to leave the bathroom when I realised this was going to be my first proper reveal. Oh my god, how was Alice going to take this?

I peeked out of the bathroom, realising she wasn’t in the room yet. I quickly got out and put on my sweatpants and shirt for the night. I then carefully wrapped my towel onto my head in a hair turban, preserving the reveal to her. With a deep breath, I opened the bedroom door and went out to meet her.

“I got you your usual, babe. You wouldn’t believe how crowded the place was to- oh,” Alice stopped laying out the food when she saw me come out the bedroom door. “Well well, am I getting a big reveal before dinner?”

“Only on one condition,” I said. She nodded along. “You can’t laugh at it.”

“Deal.”

I heaved a huge sigh. My hands reached out for the edges of the towel as I slowly slipped it off my head.

Oh. My. God.”

Fuck was all I could think of when I heard the first words escape her mouth.

“You are breathtaking,” Alice added.

“I- what?” I was not prepared for the follow-up.

She darted towards me, her face now up close and slightly above me. She gave me a peck on my forehead like she always did— which was easy for her given her superior height—, and the butterflies started jittering in me as I felt her lips so close to my scalp. 

“I never thought you could look more adorable, and then you go and cut your hair off and prove me wrong,” she remarked, and I couldn’t help but feel my cheeks reddening.

“But… but it’s so short. You actually like it?” 

“I love it,” she beamed at me before giving my head a ruffle, which made me blush even more. “Now come— dinner’s ready, and I’m sure you’re starving after your run.”

And so I spent most of dinner recollecting the dramatic ordeal that was my haircut. She listened very keenly, almost with a glimmer in her eye as I explained every detail. I never thought someone could enjoy a story about a haircut, but I wasn’t going to complain seeing her be so attentive. But of course, it wasn’t ever really a proper dinner with us if I hadn’t embarrassed myself in some way.

“You’re so cute when you do that,” she cut in midway through the story at one point. 

“Do what?” 

“When you reach up to try and touch your hair, and then you realise it wasn’t as long as before,” she said.

I bit my lip. “I’m sorry, it’s just habit-“

“No no, don’t be sorry. It’s adorable,” Alice assured with a hand on my cheek. “Anywho, I think it’s my turn to take a shower,” she announced just as she left the table to dump her plate in the sink. 

It was more than heartening to know Alice was super supportive of the hair— even if it wasn’t exactly how I wanted it to be. More than anything it was important for the one person I was living (and sleeping) with to actually like it, else it would just make life so much more awkward and weird to live with.

“Saaam,” my ears perked up when I heard my name called out in a singsong voice from the bedroom. 

I zipped straight for the room door, excitedly opening it. “Yes, babe?”

She was seated cross-legged on the bed, all freshly showered with her sweatpants and a tank top on. She tied up her blonde hair into a tight ponytail as she looked on at me with a curious hunger. 

“Come,” she simply invited as she patted her lap. My heart skipped a beat, recognising her signature invitation. “I’d like a closer inspection of your hair,” she smirked. It’d been a while since she’d taken charge of me, and I wasn’t planning on keeping her waiting. 

“Yes, ma’am,” I played along, marching forward to join her on the bed. I took my place on her lap, it’s welcoming warmth setting me right at home. 

“Have I told you how sexy you look with your hair so short?” She started as she gently placed a hand on top of my head. 

“No, ma’am,” I got into a whisper tone as I indulged in her touch. 

She chuckled softly as she slowly rubbed the top of my head. “I love how fuzzy and short it feels. But you wanna know the best part?” 

“Mhm?”

I gasped a little too loud as I felt the moisture of her lips on the base of my neck, peppering my bare skin with the most delicate of kisses that slowly moved upwards. “Now all that hair of yours is no longer in the way,” she said in between kisses. “I can kiss your neck whenever I want to, with nothing to stop me.”

I moaned as she completely took control, leaving myself defenseless just as her free hand began going under my shirt. “And your cute little ears,” she added just as her lips reached my right ear.

She tugged me in closer as she nibbled, all while I stayed comfortably frozen by her touch, mesmerised. I couldn’t control my moans as I felt her tongue lash on my ear. 

“I think she did an amazing job on your hair. So neat and tidy now,” she continued her torrent of praises that lit my heart up. “Are you going to keep it this short?”

“Mm?” I accidentally let out a not-too-confident sound, unprepared for such a question. She stopped abruptly when she heard me, popping her head over my shoulder to look at my face. 

“No?” Alice was visibly disappointed, and my heart was sinking.

“I mean,” I whispered, not sure how to proceed. “I… don’t know?” She gave me a playfully pouty face now. “It’s just… I’ve never had it so short, it’s still so weird to me.”

She let out a soft sigh, then gave a small smile. “I understand,” she assured as she gave me a peck on the cheek. She pulled her head back, getting back in position to pepper me with kisses. I quietly heaved a moment of relief, glad it wasn’t some sort of dealbreaker for her. Though all along, it was just more time for her to scheme.

“I’ll tell you what: let’s make a deal,” she started as she resumed her lip march up my neck. “If you promise to keep it this short, I will personally accompany you when you get it done.”

Accompanying me seemed like a cute thing to do for moral support, but surely there was something more on her end . I remained silent, waiting for more to this deal.

“And if you be a good girl about it,” she continued to my contentment, “You’ll get to watch me cut all my hair off.”

 

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