Friends don't let friends...
It all went downhill from there...
George may be tiny, but one thing I learned after about... ten minutes of being her friend, is that you don't piss her off unless you're prepared to get the shit kicked out of you... Or at least prepared to listen to her bitching for the next three days. I think I might be bleeding. I think her fingernail might've caught my cheek on one of those angry slaps, and I still can't stop laughing. Looking over her shoulder at her in the mirror, scissors dangling from one finger and biting back a grin at the sight of those jagged ends of her hair... Shit, I did sorta do a number on her.
"You know I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, right?"
---
"And you know it won't be a pretty sight if you fuck it up any more than you already have," I grumbled back with a mug of steaming coffee cupped in my hands.
Yeah, so it probably wasn't the best idea I'd ever had, giving him those scissors. But as far as I was concerned it was a win/win situation. It was true; the hair did need to go. I mean, I'd been sitting on it whenever I sat down for several months now, and this way I would have someone else to blame if it ended up looking completely apeshit ridiculous. If it ended up looking good? Well, then, good for me and good for Neil's face. Whatever. I looked back at him in the mirror and took a heavy sip, staring at the blond mass sprouting from my head.
I looked like a Pekingese, scrunched up face included.
---
"You're all talk, you know that?" I smirk, grabbing up a handful of her hair, examining the ends like I know what the fuck I'm doing, then snipping them off with a shrug and tossing the ball of blond fuzz into the sink. Christ, she really should've gotten Tyra to do this shit... 'cept I haven't seen her in like... forever. "Quit lookin' at me like that," I mutter, rolling my eyes and combing her hair away from her face with my fingers, crouching down so we're nearly eye to eye in the mirror and cracking a lopsided smile.
It was a stupid fucking idea, but maybe doing something stupid was just enough to get my mind off of other things...
---
I couldn't help myself. I winced at the snip.
I didn't even really care about my hair but I winced anyway. Maybe it was the fact that this whole stupid idea had Mason written all over it that did it. I hadn't seen him in way too long, hadn't found him passed out with vomit crusting at the corners of his mouth in the pot beds. Hadn't found him anywhere. Another one bites the dust.
Psh. Not like I cared.
Right.
I rolled my eyes back at him and let one corner of my mouth go up in a half-smirk. "So far, so good. You're a gay male, maybe you were born to do this after all..."
---
"Ask real nice and maybe I'll come by and decorate your room," I mutter dryly, eyes flickering over her face and flashing her a faint smirk. I can't decide if things are moving too fast for me to catch up, or if they're standing still... Nothing's like it was, but some things stay the same. Guess I'm grateful for those things. So... I'm thinking. I'm thinking about where we were a year ago. All of us. Thinking about how I've lost my footing, again, but at least I always know where I stand with her. I'm thinking... So, I'm not really paying attention to where the scissors go... closing over a clump of hair... just an inch or so above where the other cuts have been.
Shit.
"Uh... oops."
---
Yeah.
I didn't exactly scream like a petulant little girl when I saw just what was the source of that "oops."
I screamed like a grown woman, complete with your choice of colorful expletives, and it was only going to go downhill from there...
JOINT NEIL-GEORGE POST! Timed to this morning. They are in the ground floor bathroom of the compound, and George's screams can probably be heard... down on the beach. So, open to all. Old friends, new friends, not friends, whatever. It's been a long time, folks, come say hello. And come save Neil from getting clawed to death Tagging order: Your pup-Neil-George. Have at it.
George may be tiny, but one thing I learned after about... ten minutes of being her friend, is that you don't piss her off unless you're prepared to get the shit kicked out of you... Or at least prepared to listen to her bitching for the next three days. I think I might be bleeding. I think her fingernail might've caught my cheek on one of those angry slaps, and I still can't stop laughing. Looking over her shoulder at her in the mirror, scissors dangling from one finger and biting back a grin at the sight of those jagged ends of her hair... Shit, I did sorta do a number on her.
"You know I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, right?"
---
"And you know it won't be a pretty sight if you fuck it up any more than you already have," I grumbled back with a mug of steaming coffee cupped in my hands.
Yeah, so it probably wasn't the best idea I'd ever had, giving him those scissors. But as far as I was concerned it was a win/win situation. It was true; the hair did need to go. I mean, I'd been sitting on it whenever I sat down for several months now, and this way I would have someone else to blame if it ended up looking completely apeshit ridiculous. If it ended up looking good? Well, then, good for me and good for Neil's face. Whatever. I looked back at him in the mirror and took a heavy sip, staring at the blond mass sprouting from my head.
I looked like a Pekingese, scrunched up face included.
---
"You're all talk, you know that?" I smirk, grabbing up a handful of her hair, examining the ends like I know what the fuck I'm doing, then snipping them off with a shrug and tossing the ball of blond fuzz into the sink. Christ, she really should've gotten Tyra to do this shit... 'cept I haven't seen her in like... forever. "Quit lookin' at me like that," I mutter, rolling my eyes and combing her hair away from her face with my fingers, crouching down so we're nearly eye to eye in the mirror and cracking a lopsided smile.
It was a stupid fucking idea, but maybe doing something stupid was just enough to get my mind off of other things...
---
I couldn't help myself. I winced at the snip.
I didn't even really care about my hair but I winced anyway. Maybe it was the fact that this whole stupid idea had Mason written all over it that did it. I hadn't seen him in way too long, hadn't found him passed out with vomit crusting at the corners of his mouth in the pot beds. Hadn't found him anywhere. Another one bites the dust.
Psh. Not like I cared.
Right.
I rolled my eyes back at him and let one corner of my mouth go up in a half-smirk. "So far, so good. You're a gay male, maybe you were born to do this after all..."
---
"Ask real nice and maybe I'll come by and decorate your room," I mutter dryly, eyes flickering over her face and flashing her a faint smirk. I can't decide if things are moving too fast for me to catch up, or if they're standing still... Nothing's like it was, but some things stay the same. Guess I'm grateful for those things. So... I'm thinking. I'm thinking about where we were a year ago. All of us. Thinking about how I've lost my footing, again, but at least I always know where I stand with her. I'm thinking... So, I'm not really paying attention to where the scissors go... closing over a clump of hair... just an inch or so above where the other cuts have been.
Shit.
"Uh... oops."
---
Yeah.
I didn't exactly scream like a petulant little girl when I saw just what was the source of that "oops."
I screamed like a grown woman, complete with your choice of colorful expletives, and it was only going to go downhill from there...
JOINT NEIL-GEORGE POST! Timed to this morning. They are in the ground floor bathroom of the compound, and George's screams can probably be heard... down on the beach. So, open to all. Old friends, new friends, not friends, whatever. It's been a long time, folks, come say hello. And come save Neil from getting clawed to death Tagging order: Your pup-Neil-George. Have at it.