With the fine comb released from his grasp and settled onto the basin, his eyes shift upwards, meeting the glossy mirror once more. Irises of cocoa hue gaze at the visage staring from the chromed glass, like a critique almost, and he scans the image for a few moments. The one in the reflection is him, yes; yet altered only a fraction. In the place of his usual bowl of hair atop his head, there now lies a skyward slick of pompadour, exposing his forehead to the cool ship air. It is a rather unusual sensation, to have his forehead so seemingly barren, bereft of the fringe that had warmed it for years upon years. The follicles, of course, are still attached; they have merely shifted their position on his crown. And with almost a nod, he departs from the washbasin, returning the comb to its proper place, and approaching the open doorway that now resides in his sights.
Upon his exit of the small space, he paces cautiously along the pristine carpeting, slowly drawing near his courter as he does so. Fortunately, she is apparently occupied, with her slim back meeting him. There she is, at the rear of the lounge, her petite figure positioned upright, her head lowered as if glancing at an item within her slender hand. Yes, there is something in her grasp and receiving her utmost attention: a PADD, displaying phrases of a tongue not familiar to him. And yet, as she is the one who is well-studied in the field of linguistics, it is natural for her to be so immersed in the text now in her gaze.
His body now sufficiently proximate and aligned, he encases her in lengthy arms, whispering to her acute ear in a soft tone.
"Close your eyes, please.".
"It's not my birthday, is it?", her query exists her throat in a tone of jest as the PADD is relinquished onto the plush furniture.
"No, it is not. I merely...have something I wish to show you.".
"Alright.", her tone and smile indicate that she anticipates his next actions with a sense of quiet joy.
And with that, her eyelids are thus lowered, veiling her dark irises as per his kind instruction. The long arms are subsequently moved, and there soon begins a shift in the air around her. Without the means to envision what occurs in this room, she now depends upon her remaining senses. Her body, for example, senses a change in the air of the space, as a form is moved around her. Moreover, her ears detect the padding of clothed feet on soft carpet. Within mere seconds, she can sense that he is now by her side. As the front of her body is perched against the lounge, he is compelled to settle into this alternate position.
"Open your eyes.", again, her ear meets the soft tone of her lover.
As her eyelids raise from their temporary rest once more, her head rotates in the direction from which the words had been uttered. Her eyes immediately spot the Vulcan's altered appearance, and she is taken aback mildly, taking in this rather fetching new style. Shifting herself around him, she scans his pompadour hair, studying it much like the text on her PADD. A furrow in her styled brow and a few low grunts in her throat as she makes an additional pass, apparently indecisive of how to react to this 'new look'.
"I would very much like to know your thoughts, Nyota.". His voice cuts through the silence in the air as she halts in front of him.
"It's...different.".
"You do not approve?".
"It's just...", struggling to utilise the correct phrasing, she studies him once again, "I mean, I like it. It's stylish, suave, refined...but it's not you.".
"I do not believe I follow.".
She reflects for a few moments, her eyes still fixated on the styled hair atop his head. "What caused you to change your hair?".
"I considered the possibility that an altering of my appearance would be appeasing to you.".
"Oh, Spock...", slim fingers lightly move over the now bare forehead as a smile is formed upon her lips, "...did you ever consider the possibility that I like your appearance the way it already is?".
At that moment, he does, and with that thought, he gazes at her with a tenderness in his expression. It is almost like he is smiling at her, yet only through his eyes. Emotional suppression had indeed perfected other means for him to display aspects of his innermost self. And of course, she is very much aware of this, and her lips morph into a much broader grin.
It is now that he concludes, while he had thought this experiment had initially offered mixed results, it was indeed very much worthwhile.
END