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Haircuts made Daryl nervous. Didn’t like people being that close to him with anything sharp. He’d rather just let it keep growing.
After settling into Alexandria, though, he thought maybe he should get it trimmed. Just a little.
Only one person he could trust with that.
Carol had taken him out on the porch to do it so he wouldn’t feel so trapped. The houses still unsettled him, sometimes felt more like a prison than the actual prison had. The porch was better.
“Just relax,” she murmured, picking up the scissors now that she’d brushed his hair. “I’m not gonna stab you.”
Daryl snorted and tried to relax. “I ain’t worried about that.”
“Well, you look like you are.” She patted him on the shoulder. “Just a trim?”
“Yeah.”
Carol moved in front of him to start, where he could see her. She slid her fingers through his hair, snipped off a little.
Then she waited, raising an eyebrow. Daryl nodded, relaxing for real now.
He didn’t need to be nervous, not with Carol. They’d had each other’s backs in a hell of a lot of fights since all this started. Daryl could trust her with a damn haircut, too.