Logs:Curls
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| RL Date: 16 September, 2009 |
| Who: Kash |
| Involves: Tillek Hold |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Introducing (in medias res) Kezend. Hair cutting ensues. |
| When: Day 15, Month 9, Turn 20 (Interval 10) |
| "Are you sure?" "Positive. It has to go." Kezend, son of the Boll blood if unlikely to ever inherit, ran his fingers through the long curls belonging to the youngest daughter of a nowhere Hold, uncoiling them one by one as they snagged and tangled. "They're beautiful, though." Nakasha pulled away, wincing as one of his fingers caught again on her hair. "They hurt, and they're heavy, and I want you to cut them for me. Please, Kez." There was an earnestness in her gaze, a determination, that surprised him. "My sister would kill for hair like yours. All those curls." "She should hop into bed with my brother, have a curly baby instead, see how she likes it then." Kez laughed, leaning forward to kiss her soundly until her earnestness faded into warmth and contentness. Her hair covered her bare upper body like a human shirt. She flushed under his gaze. "Why now, Kash? Why today?" "Because of you. To-- mark today." He'd been no virgin when they'd met in his bed that afternoon, but she had been, the blood on the sheets testement enough to that. He'd been surprised, initially: hadn't she flirted with him from the start, so sure of herself, in control of her own sexuality? She'd complained at that characterisation. It was, she'd said, what everyone always assumed. "I was waiting. And now I'm not." He turned her around, now, spinning her so that her back was facing him, and picked up the knife she'd pulled from the scabbard on his belt, when she'd first made the request. He tested it in his hand: it was solid work, a gift he'd received when he turned sixteen. "You're sure?" "Told you that already. Do it, Kez. Now." So he lifted it, gathering up a handful of those curls, slicing them away. Snip. He could feel the way she tensed at the sound of it, but her stillness was answer to the unspoken question: go on. More. Snip. Curls floated to the floor, clinging to everything, gathering in piles. So much hair. But when it was done, her hair now not even long enough to touch her shoulders, and not exactly even, either, she was triumphant - radiant, even. She kissed him like he'd done something incredible, and then she was gone, hurrying back to her brother and sister-in-law before she was missed. He gathered up the curls, burning them at the hearth, all but one which he tied off with a piece of string and tucked into the pocket of his coat. What a girl! What a girl. |
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