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Beau sat motionlessly on the leather footstool, tracing the intricate gold edging of the fabric as he watched the man behind him in the mirror. The man was quiet, low huffs of air escaping him as he ran a comb through Beau’s flowing dark-brown, untangling long strands with the bit of plastic. His golden eyes found Beau’s in the mirror, an incongruous smirk affixed on his lips, and Beau returned what he hoped to be a relaxed smile.
An alleviating sigh left his lips as the man began running his fingers through his long hair, slow, deliberate movements that reached his scalp, cool fingers along smooth skin, an electric touch at the root of Beau’s hair.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Bellissime?”
The man’s low chuckle brushed against Beau’s ear, a soft whisper, a voice ingrained into his eardrums, a pleasing sound he cherished each time he heard it.
Beau answered with an appeased groan, and the man laughed as he watched Beau slowly slide his eyes open, unaware of when they had shut themselves. He stared back into the mirror, surprised that Carlisle already had his hair separated into portions and had begun weaving braids along the sides of his hair.
Relaxing his body against the doctor’s touch, Beau mindlessly followed the movement of Carlisle’s hands, each motion intricate and artful as locks of hair quickly were turned into flowing braids, a hair tie produced to pull the majority of the hair atop Beau’s head away from his face. Beau repositioned his glasses as he swiped loose strands away, barely getting them back into place before Carlisle stepped away from him.
“Is it to your satisfaction, meum verculum?” Carlisle asked as he set about putting away the various hair products he had brought out in the dresser before Beau.
After Carlisle had moved away from the mirror Beau began running a finger along his hair, the smooth ridges of the braids providing a pleasing contrast to the soft feel of the dark-brown hair cascading onto his shoulders.
“A doctor and a hair stylist,” Beau chuckled as he turned to view the back of his head, “Are you skilled in any other fields?”
“I’m an amateur horticulturist as well,” Carlisle replied as he returned to his spot behind Beau, smiling at the astonished look on his face. “Surprised? Is it so hard to believe that after centuries of living, I would not have established a few personal hobbies that I enjoyed and maybe have grown quite proficient at them?”
“It’s not surprising, but you have to admit that the interests are varied. I see no real connection between any of them.”
“Of course there is a connection!” scoffed the doctor, a teasing smile pointed at Beau as he continued, “Being a doctor, a hair stylist, and a horticulturist all serve an appeal to me, and that is because I am able to use my hands to create something beautiful.”
“Your hands?” Beau repeated, turning away from the mirror.
“With hands you can do anything, meum verculum! Climb a mountain, perform surgery, grow your own food, hands are capable of doing plenty! They aren’t just beautiful to look at, right?”
Beau looked up from where he was studying Carlisle’s hands, a shameful glint in his eyes as his face grew heated.
Carlisle laughed at Beau’s flustered state, dismissing, “It’s alright, don’t act so ashamed! My hands do have a certain charm to them.”
Beau turned away as Carlisle smirked salaciously at him, studying the patterns in his hair for what he felt to be the fourth time in ten minutes. He barely glanced away from the mirror as Carlisle exited the room, saying how he had to be at the hospital in an hour and wanted to eat before then. He finally managed to pull himself away from the mirror, if only long enough to take a picture of himself and send it to Mike and Edward, both of whom immediately replied to the picture.
Mike: Looks pretty cool!
Edward: Did Carlisle do that for you?
Me: Yes, it took him like over half an hour
Edward: Nice
Edward: He’s always trying to do my hair
Edward: No offense, but he’s a doctor, and he does his best work with longer hair
Mike: He does some srsly good work, tho
Mike: It might even make me consider growing mine out longer, just to see what he does with it
Me: It’s definitely worth it
Mike: It looks Nordic or something. Is Carlisle Nordic?
Edward: No, but he spent like a decade there at one point and I think he picked up a few things during his time
Me: I’ll have to ask him later, I’m gonna head off for now tho
Edward: Alright, talk to you later then. Your hair looks really nice.
Mike: Agreed
Beau thumbed his phone off and set it on the nearby desk, walking over to the closet and pulling out clothes to change into for the night. He quickly went through his evening routine as he prepared for bed before finding himself back in front of the mirror.
“Eh, I can sleep with my hair up like this.”
Beau slipped silently into bed, his hands playing with loose strands of hair as his mind replayed the feeling of the doctor’s fingers against his skin, a calm smile spread on his lips as he began to drift asleep.