His eyes close for half a second, and then they open again, hard in the mirror, as if he caught himself enjoying it and didn’t like that.
I coat every missed spot. Slow. Thorough. Not rushed like him.
When I’m done, I drag my fingers through the longer top and pause.
“It’s getting long,” I say quietly. “The sides are grown out too.”
His gaze lifts to the mirror. He studies his own reflection like he’s checking for weaknesses.
“Cut it,” he says.
Just like that.
I blink. “With what?”
He opens the drawer and pulls out clippers.
He sets them on the counter. “Two guard.”
“You’re letting me do this?” The words come out before I can stop them.
He angles his head, eyes flat. “If you fuck it up, I’ll shave it.”
I don’t know whether that’s reassurance or threat.
I pick up the clippers and attach the guard with hands that are steadier than I feel.
The buzz fills the bathroom, angry and alive.
I start at the side, guiding the blade up and out in clean passes, careful around his ear. Damp hair drops in purple-black strips onto the tile.
Maksim doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t give me suggestions. Doesn’t praise. He just watches me in the mirror like he’s memorizing the way I concentrate. The way I don’t shake.
I move to the back next, tapering it so it doesn’t puff under the longer top. When I switch the clippers off, the silence rushes back in.
He turns his head once, checking the line.
A single nod.
“Good,” he says.
It should annoy me—how he gives approval like he’s grading my work, but it does something else too. Something hot and stupid and helpless.
I set the clippers down and peel one glove off, then the other, tossing them into the trash with the dye box.
Maksim’s eyes track the movement. He reaches out and takes my wrist. Not gentle. Possessive.
“You next,” he says.
I stiffen automatically. “No.”
His gaze lifts to my hair. “Yes.”
“I don’t need—”
“You hide behind it.” His voice is quiet, but it hits harder than if he shouted. “Your hair.”
I swallow. My hand goes to my hair. It’s grown out since him, long enough to twist up, long enough to use like a curtain. I hate it.
