hairdo
059. ordinary
(non-massacre, yay~)
Itachi raised an eyebrow when his girlfriend poked his chest, a fire in her eyes.
"You," she began, looking pained and frustrated, "have beautiful hair."
Pause. "Thank you."
"You have…you have beautiful, beautiful hair that is long. And it's soft and feels so good to run my hands through—and it's so amazing, and—"
"Sakura," Itachi said firmly, taking her hand in his so she wouldn't violently jab a hole through him with her finger—because God knew she could. "What's the matter?"
"And—and my hair"—she clutched his fingers so hard, he was afraid she'd break them—"my hair is short, rough, has more bad days than good—I have split ends, Itachi! Split ends! Do you know how long I spend inspecting your hair when you're sleeping to check if you have split ends? None! You have none!"
"That's…slightly creepy, Sakura."
"The point is," she said, pulling her hand away from him and jabbing him again, "you're going to get a haircut. Immediately. I cannot stand the fact that my boyfriend's hair is longer than mine." As he processed the words, Itachi took an instinctive step back from his girlfriend. "Why are you backing away? Don't you feel emasculated with that hair?"
"I like my hair just fine, thank you," he said carefully, evaluating her mental health. "I will get it trimmed when I see fit."
"Not trimmed," she corrected. "Cut."
"…Cut."
"Good." She smiled—a charming smile—the smile that told him things were going to go her way, whether he liked it or not. "I'll book an appointment for tomorrow."
—
"So by an appointment…you meant in your kitchen. And that you were the one cutting my hair."
"What, you don't trust me?" Sakura said haughtily, tying on her pink, flowery apron with a pair of menacing scissors sitting on the kitchen table.
"You're a kunoichi, Sakura. Not a hairstylist."
"I could be a hairstylist of I wanted to."
Itachi thought it would be less detrimental to his life if he just didn't respond to that. And really, it wasn't like he could resist her…evil ways without getting himself seriously injured. He'll just ask his mother to fix it up a little once he got home.
Half an hour later, though, he realized that not even his mother could fix this.
He cleared his throat. "I cannot believe I let you cut my hair."
"It looks…good!"
He looked at her reflection pointedly in the bathroom mirror, wondering if it would be best just to go bald. His hair would grow back healthier anyway. "I look like Rock Lee."
Sakura cleared her throat. "Yeah. Well. Lee's pretty endearing in his own way."
Itachi didn't even know what to say anymore.
A/N: I have neglected this fic for far too long. I have about five more chapters written in advance, as a precaution…but I want to write more before I post more. And to think, I'm not even halfway done these prompts…thinking up new plotlines for this pairing is almost as difficult as learning a language. D:
That being said, I hope you guys had a happy holiday and a New Year! School's starting again for me tomorrow. PROCRASTINATE NOW, PANIC LATER.