Twilight and its respective contents are property of Stephenie Meyer.
Edward's Hair-Do
Edward stepped out of the shower and studied his wet, flat hair. It seemed to fall everywhere, just barely hovering above his eyelids.
He sighed, running a hand through the wet locks. Habitually, he made his way over to the mirror and began the agonizingly long process of blow drying it, combing it, applying straightener, anti-frizz cream and finally, that special gel that allowed it to stay up but not remain clunky and hard.
The entire ordeal would often take Edward upwards of over an hour give or take depending on the time of day, his mood, how much of Bella's incessant whining he'd endured earlier, which new vampires were at his doorstep threatening him with another arm wrestling competition to flaunt their male bravado, and just how waxed Jacob's chest was that particular morning.
Seriously, Edward thought, beginning to blow dry his locks, did that guy ever invest in a decent shirt? How much time did he spend removing the hair on that thing? Did he do the laser surgery thing or was it irrelevant every time he went into wolf mode.
Waking up next to that guy in bed after a transformation session must've been a bitch. The bed may as well have been made out of fur.
Edward shook his head in disgust and began using the comb to flatten certain parts of his head.
He tugged forcefully on certain stubborn areas and seized up, noticing several strands of hair simply unwilling to cooperate. He pressed harder on the comb, pulling a fair amount of loose follicles along with the comb. He shut his eyes painfully and dropped the comb, palms clutching to the sides of the sink. He gazed upon his reflection with dissatisfaction.
Curiously, his eyes traveled towards the scissors but he quickly shook his head to rid himself of any possible catastrophic notions.
Again, he picked up the comb and began the dull process of blow drying his hair. He supposed he could always simply walk out of the shower, let the mop overtop dry and just try and wing it for one day. But then how would Bella react? Would she lose respect for him? Would she no longer see him for the man he was?
After all, as everyone already knew, it was hair that made a man, that's why no one took bald vampires seriously. They could come up to you and threaten to steal your bloodline, but you'd feel more inclined to simply laugh in their face and proceed on your way as opposed to being legitimately frightened.
No, Edward thought. The idea was too dangerous. Borderline risky at best. Besides, if Hairless and his crew of furry friends ever got word of his new, faux pas hairstyle, he'd never hear the end of the string of insults. The Cullen family would never recover. Carlisle would mostly disown him.
Break a few rules? No problem. Get with a human chick? No problem. Instigate numerous tensions between rival families due to romantic preference? No problem. Start down a dangerous road by neglecting to style your hair? Kicked out of the family shamefully.
He finished drying his hair and observed the scattered, straight hair that now puffed out like a mushroom. Glancing at it exasperatedly, he reached for the straightener, pouring a generous amount into his hands before lathering up and getting ready to spread it across his hair.
In mid-air, his hands came to a freeze, eyes once more travelling towards those now very appealing scissors. He took a deep breath and brought his solution containing hands to his sides.
He fell into thought for some time, ignoring the repeated banging on the door from Alice, urging him to hurry up and quit hogging the bathroom for another hour since it was supposed to be her job.
Finally, after careful deliberation, he took in a deep breath and rinsed his palms before his trembling right hand made its way towards the precise cutting instrument. Wrapping his fingers around the smooth plastic, he exhaled cautiously, eyes swirling with curious excitement.
Slowly, he brought the scissors up to eye level, examining them for a second as he slowly opened and closed them, making that familiar click clacking of metal. With a faint smile, he braced himself and brought the scissors up above his head, grabbing a fair lock of his dry hair with his left hand.
The act was so simple yet so foreign at the same time. It felt sacrilegious yet intensely exhilarating at the same time, like when one first explores the wonders of masturbation.
Calmly, he began applying pressure on the handles, bringing the two ends together as the blades slowly began to close around his hair.
Suddenly, the door burst wide open as Alice used a portion of her strength from her rising impatience.
"Edward, what the hell is taki-" she froze in midsentence, eyes bulging out of their sockets in stupefied horror. "Edward, what're you doing? No!" she screamed, reaching out for the scissors.
He backed away towards a corner, expertly hiding the scissors from within her reach as she cornered him. "Alice get back. You don't understand okay? You don't know what it's like, having to get up every day and work tirelessly to perfect this look. I'm tired. I'm tired of always having my day revolve around my hair."
"But it's who you are," she pleaded. "It defines you."
"I want to get up that one morning and just realize that all I need to do is look in the mirror to be ready. No maintenance, no fuss, no mousse, no exuberantly priced hair products. Do you know what kind of a killing these guys make off me? I probably attribute to most of their stock hikes."
"Okay Edward, I understand you're frustrated, it can be difficult at times, but cutting won't be the answer. It won't end your pain. I know okay? I've been down there." Alice eyed him expectantly, a supportive look gracing her face.
Edward's eyes darted around suspiciously, from her straight black hair, to her questioning eyes, to her fidgety fingers, to the still foggy mirror, to Emmett, who now stood by the doorway in question, observing the scene quietly and eating what looked like a Pizza Pop, chewing with his mouth wide open.
Again, his eyes fell back to Alice's disgustingly straight hair, giving off a shine that indicated she had it professionally done as opposed to having endured the painstaking process of styling it herself. At the sudden realization, his eyes hardened and his face went dark.
"Never!" he screamed in infantile fashion and pulled the scissors out with explosive speed, getting ready to take a large chunk off his head. Alice was quick and intercepted the attempt, beginning to wrestle him for the scissors.
"Emmett, help me!" she cried out, frantically attempting to pull the cutters away.
Emmett observed the struggle unfold and finished chewing. "Can't." He brought his arms up. "I've got pizza sauce all over my hands. Edward just showered. I'll go get Jasper." With that, he calmly walked away.
Edward initiated a final grunt and forcefully pushed Alice off of him, slamming her into the wall, eliciting several cracks. He smirked at her defeated figure while she struggled to get up. He instantly shot to the mirror and once more, readied himself to snip a portion of his flowing hair out before Jasper blindly shot in with venomous speed out of nowhere, spearing him into the wall.
The two struggled once more as Alice recovered from her daze and jumped in, attempting to subdue her brother.
"We're doing this for your own good! Stop struggling!"
"Edward Stop," Jasper bellowed in between grunts.
Carlisle sped into the bathroom from the commotion, furious at the juvenile acts being displayed by his family. "What the hell is going on here?"
"Edward's trying to cut his hair!" Alice exclaimed.
Carlisle's already pale skin went a shade whiter as he took dove into the fray, wrestling with his son.
Edward looked up from his spot at the dining room table, watching the rest of his family consume their meals with appropriate silver cutlery. He stared down at his plastic fork and plastic knife, shaking his head in disgust.
"This is embarrassing," he blurted out, clearly peeved.
"Eat your food honey," Esme delicately. "Bella will be here soon. Isn't that great news?"
"You know what'd be greater? Me getting my scissors back."
"No," Carlisle shot.
"Can I have some proper utensils then?"
"No." The family had made sure to remove any potentially sharp objects away from within his vicinity.
Edward sighed bitterly under his breath and stabbed at his food with the pathetic excuse for a fork. He heard Emmett inch his chair over and stared up at him. "What?"
"I know mom's food can be rough sometimes," he offered. "Here, I got you a Pizza Pop instead."
Edward stared ahead through the wall in defeat. "I bet this type of thing never happens at the Black household.
Jacob finished shaving away the final remnants of hair from his now baby smooth chest. He eyed his upper body over with satisfaction, beaming at another job well done. He stared at himself curiously, a feeling of boredom creeping over him.
He had completed his wolf rounds for the night, had harassed Bella yet again with another of his profound love proposals, and had done the required amount of sit-ups for the evening on top of shaving his chest. There wasn't much else to do.
With his eyes scanning his toned form once more, they travelled south, settling at his waist. An unmistakable itch began emerging and initially, he did his best to fight it off but as his thoughts went down that avenue, and his eyes fell upon the electric shaver, he could no longer deny his impulses.
Pulling the towel slightly outwards, away from his waist, he stared down at his pubes, then at the shaver, a curious smile creeping up on his lips.
Note: Would Bella dump him if his hair didn't have its own story to tell? Would she still be friends with Jacob if he didn't shave his chest and prance around shirtless 95 percent of the time?