Dash’s face slants in my direction. Eyes on my hand first, before they glide up my body, to my face.
Our eyes lock, for only a split second. But that’s all it takes.
I’m fuckinggone.
Stand still.
Tap.
Don’t move.
Tap.
Breathe.
Don’t. Tap. Touch. Tap. Him. Tap tap tap.
“Officer,” The Ivory snaps. I flinch, guilty and flushed, as I pry my eyes away from my luscious fantasy come true. He lifts a brow at me. “You’re up.”
Fuck me…
No. Please, don’t make me…
Despite knowing Ihaveto, I don’t move until he clears his throat and physically snaps his fingers at me, nodding to the center of the room. Gulping, I tread forward, taking robotic steps toward the chair where Dash is sitting. Radiating pure tension, nerves bunched as our eyes meet again, upclosethis time.
All of the air whooshes right out of my lungs.
Hazel…They’re swirling mossy green and brown hazel, like a forest.
Dear God, he is more beautiful than I ever could have prepared for…
Dash’s lips part, and my heart slams against my ribcage so hard I almost cough. He’ssomuchprettierup close, and he smells goddamnmouthwatering. I can’t stand it. I actually flick on the clippers by accident because of how sweaty and shaky my hands are.
“Is this really necessary?” Dash whines, wide hazel doe-eyes sparkling up at me, shifting from mine to the Warden.
Fuck, I’m sorry…
I’m trembling, but I compose myself, knowing that The Ivory is scrutinizing my every movement. Sucking in a breath of preparation, I shift behind Dash, somehow feeling him stiffen without even touching him. I bite down so hard on the inside of my cheek I taste copper, nervously grasping the nape of his neck with my left hand, bringing the clippers to his scalp with my right.
Dash lets out a soft whimper. I blink slowly.
I hate this.
God, I fucking hate this.
Please, baby, don’t hate me…
I proceed to shave off Dash’s hair, screaming inside as I do, because it’s so soft and silky andsexy, and he’s miserable fromhead to toe over this. I think it might actually be the worst thing I’ve ever had to do.
His hair is part of what makes him look so… ethereal. It’s part of his identity, clearly. He takes pride in it… And I’mstealingit from him.
The Warden is speaking again, but neither of us is listening. Dash is shivering, and I’m cringing inside, watching him watch his hair flutter to the floor. His panic is palpable. I think this is more than just a haircut to him.
He’s about to break down, I can feel it.
With my fingers holding the base of his skull, I allow my thumb to graze the soft skin of his nape. Just a brief touch, meant to calm him. But I think it’s really for me.
To calm me, and treasure him.
