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Chapter Three
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"Your hair has grown since I last came to see you... maybe we should cut it?"
I don't really care about my hair, but it's her voice, so I listen. And her smile, it's so... real. I nod, she will be happy if I nod (and I like it when she is happy).
"Do you remember where I hid my scissors? Ah! It should be under the can, get it for me?"
(It's snowing and I'm cold but she is here and that's what matters)
"You're cute like that, though. You should let it grow, but it won't grow pretty if we don't cut it now."
I sit in front of her, letting her soft hands run through my hair. Her touches are so light, so kind... It makes me want to stay with her like this forever.
I'm almost leaning back, not even realizing she had started working with the scissors. She laughs (the sound I love to hear the most) and pulls at the strand she had been holding, making it clear I should not lean back.
"Your hair will be cut in the wrong places if you move too much" she says. Then I don't move.
She has started humming that sad song again. I have come to love the song, because it's her voice and she sings it with so much emotion, so much passion. I can feel her breath close to my neck when she stops.
"Your relaxed face is cute. But..." her tone has changed and I don't need to turn around to see her expression is twisting and changing fast, I know she will hurt me. "Your pained face is way more beautiful."
(I can feel my face retorting and the hiss I let out as she twists the tip of the scissor in my neck, inflicting a small wound, making the blood drip down)
Her tongue runs up the blood, cleaning, until the tip of my earlobe. I'm shivering.
"Hey... don't get too comfortable."
She is out of reach again, laughing, cutting my hair.
For a minute I forget that it's cold and I don't have enough clothes on, or that my only blanket is all torn up. I forget I'm hungry and have no food.
(She warms me, her presence feels... so radiant. It feeds me)
The touches and scissor movements are fast, almost colored, but soon they become slow, then stop completely. Where have they gone? Are they coming back? I turn to look at the source and her lips are drawn in a thin line, her eyes serious. Then she cracks a smile and suddenly I don't care when what comes ... comes where? What was it I had been missing?
(I feel like leaning on her and letting her warmth swallow me whole)
I smile too, and she gets up.
I might have asked where she was going, because she says she has to leave and find us food. She always gets the food. Maybe I should get the food today.
But she has already left and I have fallen asleep again.