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Laura sighed, shifting her weight back and tapped Cowlquape on the top of the head.
“Young man, if you don’t sit still, I swear I will shave your head. All of this gum. How did you even manage to get this all in here?”
From where she was standing behind him, she watched his ears go red. He ducked his head down and mumbled something.
Laura reached forward, grabbed his head, and yanked it back to the position she kept putting it in. “Hold. Still. And speak up. What did you say?”
Cowlquape scowled up at her in the mirror. “Vox put it there,” he said with his jaw clenched tightly.
(Oooh, and he was angry, Laura noted with a smirk.)
She picked up the scissors from where she’d slammed them a minute ago to get his attention and began to carefully snip away the hair around the big clump. Cowlquape shifted again, and she poked him with the scissors and cleared her throat. He stilled, glancing up at her in the mirror in front of him again.
Laura wasn’t paying attention to that, though, instead focusing on his hair. “Y’know, when I’m done here, you won’t have so much bed head hair. And it’ll be easier to take care of.”
She clipped away for a little while longer, then moved around to the front to see how it was. The hair was good, but Cowlquape had an absurd grin on his face. Laura raised one eyebrow at him, waiting for an explanation. One that didn’t come.
That night after they crawled into bed, once the lights were off, Cowlquape started snickering. He rolled over and slung him arm around her waist, leaning down to kiss her on the shoulder.
“When you were cutting my hair earlier,” he whispered into her shoulder, “you were making faces while concentrating.”
Laura rolled over and pushed him, burying her face in her neck. She waited for him to get comfortable, then blew a raspberry. She laughed as he rolled away wiping at his neck. She flopped over and touched his nose with hers. “I love you, you goob.”