She'd been preparing herself for anything, because at no point had she ever felt that she knew this man well enough to predict him. The vague shapes of her past that triggered all those old feelings of love and pain were just that -- vague. She found herself unable to look away from him while some strange breed of hope took root in her at the fact that he'd finally come to her in her territory. It was all so foolish, and yet she knew, although she could not precisely remember, that being foolish where he was concerned was an old habit.
"Alright," she said with a nod, making a no fuss about his request. She could surely understand the urge to look different. "I'll be right back."
She went into the bathroom to collect a towel, some scissors, and a comb and returned to him, unfolding the towel as she went. She held it open for him, showing him it was empty before taking some of his hair in the towel and beginning to rub it dry. When that was done, she draped the towel over his shoulders, then picked up the comb and began to comb and section his hair.
"Does it matter to you how short I take it?" She asked as she worked her comb through the wet knots of his hair as gently as she could while still being quick about it. She could sense the urge to run in him, and while she knew she would not stop him, she did not want him to.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-08-08 04:52 pm (UTC)"Alright," she said with a nod, making a no fuss about his request. She could surely understand the urge to look different. "I'll be right back."
She went into the bathroom to collect a towel, some scissors, and a comb and returned to him, unfolding the towel as she went. She held it open for him, showing him it was empty before taking some of his hair in the towel and beginning to rub it dry. When that was done, she draped the towel over his shoulders, then picked up the comb and began to comb and section his hair.
"Does it matter to you how short I take it?" She asked as she worked her comb through the wet knots of his hair as gently as she could while still being quick about it. She could sense the urge to run in him, and while she knew she would not stop him, she did not want him to.