Star-Crossed

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Hey everyone.  I’ve been lurking on here for years and this is my first submission.  It’s one of my many fantasies. I hope you like it!

You could call me a working girl.  Forty hours a week, I ran the bottling line at a local brewery and saturdays, I was a waitress at a cafe where Simon cooked.  There was something about the way he carried his wiry frame and watched you speak, as if he carried some deep secret. He made a lot of jokes with the other cooks but had a nervous way of wincing and squeezing his forehead when deciding what to say to me.  It gave him an air of passion and sincerity that I found sexy.  

Every week I tried to look cute for him and I think I did okay with what I’ve got.  I’ve always been somewhat of a boxy girl with strong arms, full bust, and wide hips.  My favorite feature about myself is my big blue eyes. I hated my hair. I never kept much of a style.  Just wore it up all the time and tried to keep it from looking too greasy, which was hard to do with my shade of dirty blonde.  It was hard.  I got it cut sometimes but never had it in me to get it styled regularly.  I didn’t have time for that. It always grew a couple inches past my shoulders before I noticed how boring my hair was.  I hated it.  

One sweaty morning I asked Simon, “What should I do with my hair?  I’m never happy with it. It’s just so long and so… annoying.” I would have done anything with it if he’d just tell me.  

“I don’t know,” Simon answered pensively, with that tone of withholding, and pinched his forehead in his endearingly nervous way.  “What does Dean think?”

“You know I don’t care about pleasing Dean,” I sassed, “He doesn’t care about pleasing me so why should I care what he thinks?”  God, I wished I could be with Simon instead. He had a girlfriend, Rachel, whom he never talked about. We’d met once but she seemed to have no interest in being my friend.  

I continued, “It’s just so boring like this.  I’d love to have beautiful long hair but I always get fed up and cut it. I’m just so sick of washing and brushing it and it looks so boring.”

Simon, wincing, poured himself a cup of coffee and put his arm around me.  Squeezing, he replied, “Brandy. I’ve never found you to be boring. You’ll look great no matter what you do.”

“Thanks.  I love you.” I said quietly, squeezing him back.  

“I love you too.”

We were friends so it was okay to say I loved him.  He never responded as if it was anything more than friendship.  He didn’t know what I meant by it. He couldn’t expect I was in love with him.  

I went back to work, distracting myself from thoughts of him.  Of course, I couldn’t make him tell me what to do with my hair.  He wasn’t my boyfriend. Yet, I wanted to give him the world. At the end of an exhausting day, I still needed a haircut.  I needed something manageable.  

The next day, after work at the brewery, I went to my friend’s salon and got it done.  I had her cut my hair layered and short enough to not stay off my shoulders. It made my hair look darker, silkier, and healthier.  It wasn’t fabulous or anything, but it was a definite improvement and I could still pull it back when I needed to.  

Saturday I walked into the cafe, excited to show off my new and improved look.  I wore my black-rimmed glasses and favorite sweater. The sweater was a little worn out but it worked with the cute nerd style I was going for.  Strolling through the kitchen, I made a scan to see if Simon noticed me. He had to have, but didn’t take the time to make eye contact. It’s okay.  I know he’s a little shy with me.  He’s probably busy. I thought to myself, setting tables to the sound of “relaxing coffee shop music” from youtube.  

Around 1pm I got a chance to sit down in the kitchen.  It had been a slow day, which I really needed. I’d already gotten a few compliments on my haircut so I was feeling okay.  

“How’s it going Simon?” I asked with accidental exuberance as he wiped down the plating station.  

“Pretty good.  The plates have been looking real nice.  I bet we’ll still make some decent dough today.” he countered then sighed, “Your hair looks nice.”

“Thanks!” I beamed.  For some reason when I felt apprehensive, my voice would get so loud.  “It’s shorter.”

“Yeah.  It looks great.”

“You know, I used to have really short hair.  Way before I knew you.” I said with a wry grin, expecting him to share some kind of honest opinion about my look.  I grabbed a stray chunk of biscuit and nibbled, casually waiting for him to say something.  

“Really?  I’d love to see that.” He said with a lightness, out of character.  

“Oh yeah!  I used to bleach my hair, too.  Let me find a picture for.” We often didn’t get a chance to talk this much during business hours.  My heart was beating furiously, as I scrolled through my phone. Simon was waiting.  

“Here it is.  This is me 6 years ago.”  I chortled, showing him my phone.  

“Oh wow.  I went to high school with a lot of girls who had that flippy look.”  he chuckled back. My hair had been chin length with no bangs. It was so lame, I know.  

“Oh yeah.  I thought I was so cool.”

“That’s not really short, though.  You’ve probably never had really short hair.”  he shrugged, avoiding my eyes. He looked disappointed.  Simon’s girlfriend had really short hair. It was buzzed in the back and faded so the top could be cut with scissors.  It was a cool look but not especially flattering on her. Of course I wasn’t going to talk about her unless he wanted to.  

“Well maybe someday I will.” I raised my chin proudly.  “Who cuts Rachel’s hair? It always looks so good.”

Simon breathed deep and looked at me straight in the eyes, “I do.  I’ve cut a lot of my friends’ hair.” then he scoffed, mocking himself, “sometimes I do a really good job.”

“Will you cut my hair then?” I asked.  

“I’ll text you after work,” Simon responded seriously and got back to work.  

I had a few beers as the shift went on.  Was I really going to let Simon cut my hair?  Of course I was. Why not? Anything to get to know him better.  

By the time I got home, I was definitely feeling pretty buzzed and got ready to take a shower, just in case Simon really did text me.  By then, I figured he probably had a thing for girls with really short hair. Maybe he’d cut my hair real short and have sex with me.  That would be great. I liked doing it with Dean but I don’t know.  Simon was so different. Even as a line cook, something about him demanded so much respect and admiration.  He was so controlled and sexy.  

Towel-drying my hair, I noticed that Simon did text me.  

Simon: “Can I come over?”

Me: “Yeah.  Are you going to cut my hair?”

Simon: “Yeah.  Is Dean going to be home?”

Me: “No.  I wouldn’t expect him until after last call.”

Simon: “Nice.  I’ll be there in 10.”

Oh my god.  In 10 minutes, Simon was going to be here.  The house was a bit of a mess. There were beer cans everywhere.  Oh well. I figured he’d feel more comfortable if I didn’t clean up.  I went ahead and got into a nightgown and cracked a beer.  I had no energy to get myself dressed again. At least I smelled like herbal essences.  By the time I put a record on, Simon was at the door.  

“Hey.” He let himself in, “I brought some scissors and clippers, depending on what you want.”  He gave no indication about what he wanted to do to me.

“Well hey, have a seat.  Grab a beer.” I said, from the couch.  “You know. You’re the stylist. Why don’t you just tell me what you want to do?”

At that, he choked a little on his beer.  “Okay. This is what I think would look really really good on you.”  He gulped again and sat next to me. “I think we should do a long buzz with scissors on top, so you have enough fringe to cover your hairline.”  

I looked at him and took a deep breath and started to sweat, still a little damp from the shower.  It was really going to happen. I was going to let him do whatever he wanted with me. My pants were also starting to get a little damp.  “You know, Simon.” I gulped. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Okay then.” He stood up.  “We can’t tell Rachel. She’ll get really jealous.  You know, cutting women’s hair is a turn on for me. If that’s not okay with you, then we shouldn’t do this.”

“It’s okay, Simon.  I want to do this with you.  I will tell everyone I went to a stylist.  Nobody has to know we did this.” I whispered.  

The next few moments felt unreal.  Before I knew it, I was sitting on a kitchen stool with a towel around me.  

“First, I’m going to cut most of your hair with scissors so it’ll be easier with the clippers.”  Simon said, combing through my hair a bit. “Okay. Here we go.” He said, as a sipped my beer. I loved the feel of his hands on my head, and the quick snipping sounds.  He worked fast and seemed to be cutting everything pretty evenly. He got really close to shape my fringe line and I could feel his breath on my forehead. He was cutting my bangs really high.  I’d always wanted to try having extremely short bangs. I could see his dark eyes, intensely examining his work. God, I could have fainted.  

“Do you want to see it so far,” He asked, proudly taking a long pull from his beer.  

“Okay.” I said, with my sweetest bedroom voice.  

I pulled out my phone and looked at myself and I have to say.  Never did I think I would look so good . No part of my hair was longer than an inch.  My jaw line, ears, and forehead both seemed to be shaped perfectly.  Damn, I was pretty hot.  So fit.  I had a feeling Simon was definitely hoping to get some after this.  

“Oh my god.” I continued in the same voice, “I never thought I would look so good.  Please hurry up and finish. I can’t wait to see it.”

“You’re going to look so good, Brandy.” He said, putting a hand on my shoulder.  I had short hair now. I could feel the ceiling fan blow on my ears and neck. The touch of Simon’s warm breath on my neck, gave me goosebumps.  

Within a minute, Simon had the clippers going.  

He said, “I’m going to do most of the sides and the back with a #3 guard and then shape up the bottom.  

“Okay Simon.” I consented.  

“Okay, put your head down.”

For the next few minutes, I enjoyed the tickling feeling of the clippers and the warm, tender feeling of Simon’s hands on my fuzzy scalp.  

“Okay.  I have the top faded into the buzzed sides and now I’m going to do just a little fading on the bottom.”

“That sounds great,” I replied, gleefully.  

Within a few moments he was done.  He trimmed my sideburns neatly to the top of my ear and trimmed the bottom of my hairline up to the bottom of ears, and faded up briefly.  I lifted my hands to touch the fuzz all over my head. I looked at myself into my phone and felt myself getting very hot. I stood up and pulled Simon’s face to mine.  I placed his hand on to the back of my head, and moved it up and down to feel the cool stubble on my neck. I looked him in the eye and touched my lips to his without kissing.  For that moment, I put his other hand on my swollen breast. I bet you can guess what happened next.  

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