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I lean against the bathroom counter; the stone is cool, even through my sweater, and so is the floor beneath my bare feet (also stone.) The counter itself is a bit too tall for me to be able to reach it properly, but then again, not SO tall, because Asriel uses it, too.
The scissors I hold, however, are definitely oversized. Perhaps comically so. They might be as long as my arm, or I might be exaggerating... Regardless, I grip them resolutely with hands that seem so tiny, and so painfully human. Every part of me is, of course, but even as I peer into the vast mirror in front of me, I try to ignore the obvious and focus on the task at hand.
At this point, though, I am starting to realize that even opening the scissors would require the use of both hands, one on each handle, and then where would I be? It would be difficult to achieve much of anything without a free hand.
I pout at my reflection. My left hand idly tugs at my hair while the right loosely grips the scissors, and I consider how best to go about this. I am not aiming for perfection, so maybe I should just go for it and attribute any mistakes to aesthetic choices...
"Chara!" Toriel's voice is sharp with what I perceive to be anger, and I jump back instinctively; the scissors slip from my grasp, clattering to the smooth stone floor. For someone so large, Toriel moves with remarkably silent steps, and I can do nothing to hide how startled I am by her sudden appearance.
When I look up at her face, hands trembling as I prepare for angry shouts or worse, there is only concern in Toriel's expression. Of course there is. A twinge of guilt stings inside of me; how could I fear gentle, loving Toriel? How dare I flinch away from her? I had not been here long - perhaps a few months - but I should know by now that she would never hurt anybody, not even a demon-child like me.
Before an apology or excuse or defensive argument can come out of my mouth, Toriel is speaking again. "My child... Please, do not do this. If you are hurting, we will all do our best to help you."
Fear, guilt, confusion, understanding, and then guilt again; my expression changes quickly and I don't know whether to laugh or sob. I think a sound somewhere between the two escapes me as I bend down to retrieve the fallen scissors, holding them with the point aiming downwards to show I mean no harm to anyone, myself included. Not that I can really blame her for thinking that I might have; my sleeves are long now, but I know she has seen what is underneath the soft fabric.
"I wasn't-" I start between giggles, because all I know how to do these days is laugh. "I was just- I wanted a haircut." I laugh, and I hope it helps her to see that everything is fine at the moment. I laugh, and I pretend it will stop me from feeling guilty for worrying her. I laugh, because it is a bit funny, isn't it?
But now, the look on Toriel's face has shifted to an entirely new type of horror, and my laughter only increases.
Apparently drawn by the noise, Asriel's fluffy head pokes through the open bathroom doorway. He peers at us with an endearing blend of confusion and curiosity. "Mom? Chara? What's going on?"
"Oh, hey Azzy!" I give him my best and brightest smile. "Toriel is terrified because she thinks I am about to give myself an awful haircut."