Grace sighed, the sound quiet and almost fragile. “That feels incredible.”
Alix smiled, watching the way Grace’s shoulders loosened, the way she angled her head just a little more into Alix’s hands. “You’ve earned it.”
Grace’s hands slid up to Alix’s waist. Her touch was tentative at first, then bolder. Her fingers traced the curve of Alix’s hips, the line of her ribs.
Alix’s breath hitched. “You’re very distracting, you know that?”
Grace hummed innocently. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Alix chuckled, leaning over her again, fingertips moving in slow, hypnotic circles against Grace’s scalp. The tension between them felt alive. Not frantic, but steady and electric, like a current passing between them.
They didn’t talk much after that. There didn’t seem to be room for words. Only the sound of water, the scent of citrus, and the steady rise and fall of Grace’s breathing. When Alix finally rinsed the last of the suds away, she wrapped Grace’s hair in a towel, careful not to drip water down her neck.
Grace blinked up at her, a little dazed. “I think I might’ve ascended.”
Alix grinned. “That’s the deluxe package.”
She draped a towel over Grace’s shoulders, clipping it at the neck with a chip bag clip. Grace laughed, the sound bright and close. “Official stylist gear, huh?”
“I’m nothing if not resourceful,” Alix said, combing through her hair. The strands slid like silk between her fingers.
Grace sat still, the air between them sparking with the electricity of their kiss. “I can hear you thinking,” she said quietly.
“Just deciding where to start. You have such gorgeous, thick hair. It’s a dream.”
“Thank you, I think?” Grace said.
Alix sectioned off the first bit of hair and made the first cut. The blades whispered. Tiny pieces of dark hair fell onto the towel.
Grace’s stunning hazel eyes looked up at her as she combed through another section. “You look serious.”
“I always look serious with scissors,” Alix said. “They demand respect.”
“There’s a scissoring joke in there somewhere,” Grace quipped, her voice lowering.
Alix grinned. “We have one kiss and you’re already thinking of scissoring,” she teased.
“Your username was Scissorsaurus. I thought of scissoring almost immediately, for the record,” Grace said.
Alix paused, leaning down to press a quick kiss to Grace’s lips. “You keep talking like that and you’re ending up with less than half of a haircut,” she warned.
Grace grinned but gave her a small nod. “Okay, I’ll behave until you’re done.”
Alix worked slowly, the way she always did when she was cutting hair for someone she cared about. Grace’s eyes were half-lidded, a small, content smile tugging at her mouth. Every time their gazes met, something inside Alix went light.
It was almost silent. Snip, comb, the faint scrape of metal, the kind of quiet that felt intimate rather than empty. When Alix brushed a strand away from Grace’s face, her fingers grazed skin, and Grace’s breath hitched just a little.
When the last strand fell, Alix dusted off Grace’s shoulders and worked some product into her hands, hand-styling the face-framing pieces into place. She stepped back and said, “Okay. Bathroom mirror viewing party.”
They walked together to the bathroom. Grace leaned in, fingertips combing through the new layers. It wasn’t a big change, but it was enough to soften her face. To make her look a little more herself. But her expression shifted as she looked, eyes shining with something quiet and deep.
“I feel really pretty,” she said, so low it was barely audible.
Alix’s throat tightened. “You are,” she said. Then, even quieter, “You’re stunning.”
Grace turned to her, eyes glistening. “You really think so?”
“I do.”
