Damon Albarn Haircut Novels & Stories

I kissed his cheek and hugged his neck. "I'm sorry. God! You look sick" He shook his head with a smile. "Just missed you" I ran my hands through his hair. "You need a a haircut" "No" "Yes. I can help you with it" "Christ! No way. I love you but no" Damien chuckled. "I can do it. I used to cut my dad's hair" "I don't want to look like your dad" he said and I giggled pulling at his hair softly but enough to make him moan.

Now a long sigh was heard, then the owner of the long hair leaned back and closed her eyes. It made Damian stare fixedly. Hair styled slightly wavy, colored maroon. It really depicts the antagonist. Though she thinks it’s a better blonde like last time. If it wasn’t for being in the spotlight at the event later, surely she wouldn’t have changed her hair color—lucky not a wedding party, just a businessman’s birthday. If he remembers, he is also quite used to sitting next to Almeera if he is not bothered by mischievous touches and strange sentences. However, it gets even weirder if he doesn’t speak at all, doesn’t it?

Remembering that the doctor would be up in a few moments, and not wanting to give him any excuse to send me straight to bed, i hastened to the bathroom, where I splashed cool water on my face in an effort to rid myself of the flush that still suffused my cheeks. I dragged a hand through my curls and frowned at my reflection in the mirror. My hair didn’t look right. A brief image flashed across my mind. It was me, laughing, but with shorter hair. Hair that curled riotously around my head in an unruly cap. Even with such a brief glance into my memories, i knew i preferred my hair short. So why had i let it grow long? I shook my head and vowed to get it trimmed as soon as i was able to. I heard

I hadn't even bothered to fix my hair before barging out into the living area. I had found Damon there, sitting on the couch with his laptop open. He was in the middle of a video meeting, his face stern as people on the screen droned on about regional bidding and logistics. He had ended the meeting as soon as he saw me and I finally ran a finger through my hair sighing in relief. Before I began bombarding him with questions. "Yes," he said, his eyes raking over me, taking in my disheveled state and the bandages on my neck. He frowned. "Did you not know about this habit?"

"Thanks" Damon looked more youthful without his beard, but he was still imposing. His jaw was marked, his lips were defined, his projected nose was symmetrical and its tip was upturned, slightly upwards. His eyes were clearer in the face of all the sunlight that invaded the room. The black strands of his hair were damp and messy.

Damon appeared in the doorway, barefoot, his phone already in his hand. “What’s wrong?” he typed. “I… I had a nightmare,” I whispered. He read my face carefully, then typed again: “Come here. I’ll give you a hair massage. It helps.” I frowned. “A hair massage? Seriously?” He raised a brow. I sighed. “Fine. But if you break my skull, I’m suing you.” He chuckled silently, motioning for me to sit in front of him. His fingers brushed through my hair—rough at first, almost impatient.

He said in a small voice. I rolled my eyes. "I will if you're ugly." He looked hurt. "Fine," I sighed. "I won't make any jokes about how ugly you are if you're ugly." Damien let out a breath before pulling a hair tie from his wrist. He gathered his black hair and tied it into a bun, then turned to face me fully for the first time. And I almost choked on my own spit. Damien was not ugly. Far from it.

She used to get startled by his desire to be naked but got used to it by now. "Your haircut!" she suddenly remembered. "Your barber fixed an appointment for you this evening. So don't forget," she walked closer. "You have long hair and your hairline is perfect too..." she wanted to touch his hair but held back her urges. "A classic pompadour hairstyle will suit you best...it will go well with your beard too..." "Pompadour, huh?" Jeremy asked, running his fingers through his hair. His barber always asks him to style his hair that way, but he'd refuse since he doesn't like to put much effort into styling his hair every day.

‘You’re cutting it short? ‘All I’m doing is taking off the ends to improve the condition and cutting in a few layers to soften it. Damian threatened never to use me again if I ruin your beautiful hair, although if you want my personal opinion—’ Dana squinted at her ‘—I think it would suit you short.’ He liked her hair. The thought went round and round in her head. He liked her hair.

Damon turned me again pulling his fingers in my hair as he asked me, "may I?" I nodded because it was two difficult to speak. Damon didn't show a single sign of grief. He just said that he is extremely happy and that this is happiest day. I almost fucked it up here as the silence consumed both of us. Damon pulled out a bunch of flowers and pins from my hairs and kept them aside. My hairs were log and black and now they were even curled deeply. He smoothed my hairs with his fingers as he looked back into my eyes. He moved my hairs from my forehead and then moved to take my earings off.