Romans & histoires Fine Hair Choppy Bob

My gaze returns to the mirror, to my red hair, then to a scissors on the dresser. “Hair holds memories they say… Let’s get rid of them, maybe you’ll feel better.” With a smile, I pick up the scissors, use my hands to part my hair into two from the middle, grab my hair just above my shoulder and I cut it… I let the thick bundle of hair fall to the ground. I burst into laughter as I grab the second side and cut it off too, surprisingly evenly, and I have a long red bob on my head. “Hm…” I mutter, getting creative with it, and soon, there is a thick wisp of hair flying on the floor of the room, and my long bob and bangs, actually slaying in front of the mirror.

Chapter Twenty-six "Miss are you sure you want that hairstyle?" Question to the woman combing my hair. "Do I look like I'm joking?" I asked him coldly. She shook her head and trying to knock some sense on my head again but my decision is already final no one can change my mind. "Your hair is naturally shinny and wavy and suits you well. It's even naturally light brown and too long. Don't you even regret it?" "You're wasting my time. Are you going to cut it or what?! Do I still need to call your manager for making your customer wait?!" He didn't answer anymore, he combed it and bonded it on the top of my head and cut it.

different. I turned to look at Mia, expecting to see a twin version of my new look. But as her chair spun around, my jaw hit the floor. Mia’s hair was black. A dark, warm glowing shade of black, and had been cut into a chic, shoulder-length bob. There wasn't a single streak of red on her head. I stared at her, then back at the mirror, then back at her. "Mia? What happened?" Mia was touching her new bob, looking at herself with a satisfied smile.

“Don’t move or you’ll make it worse.” Jonie worked quickly in the silence that fell between us. She snipped at my hair from different angles, evening out the jagged tufts and bringing some semblance of cohesion. A pixie cut was all that could be salvaged of what remained, but I was grateful to no longer look like the failed experiment of a 5-year-old who discovered the wonders a pair of scissors could do to the heads of her Barbies.

I smiled, seeing how the new hairstyle fit my face. She cut my long hair that reaches my hips a little, and now it just reaches below my boobs. It's straight above, yet she curled the end. She also put some blonde highlights on my black hair, and it's really attractive. "I like it. Name the price, please!" I said because I actually forget to ask lately.

She asks, getting comfortable on her side, “It looks insane.” "I chopped it off. Had a little breakdown," I murmur, not caring about it anymore, not with the drugs on my system, "But it’s whatever, hair grows." "Yeah, it grows. So chop it off even more. I want it short too, like up to here," Bobbie says, motioning to her jaw. "Hell no. You’d look weird as hell with short hair," Farrow butts in, offending his little princess and hugging me again, not giving a shit about the rules, "Your neck is too long. Like a straw someone chewed up.”

I couldn't go out looking like an eccentric freak. Decisively, I opened the cabinet and pulled out a pair of hair scissors along with Maya’s hair straightener that she had left behind last time. Snip! Snip! Without a shred of hesitation, I gripped the white locks tightly and chopped them off. The snowy strands fell haphazardly onto the bathroom floor like the feathers of a molting bird. I cut it short, leaving the hair just grazing my jawline, framing the sharp contours of my face that were now becoming more pronounced. Next, I plugged in the straightener, biting my lip as I patiently pressed down, forcing the stubborn strands to flatten.

The 'or something' turns out to be right. "What do you think?" Barbara asks, turning towards me. My mouth gapes open. Holy shit! Her pubic hair is a perfect triangle, coiffured with crisp edges all around and a flat surface that reminds me of a well-manicured lawn, or Grace Jones' haircut. It is the most erotic sight I have ever seen. Her tightly curled hair creates a smooth, thick covering nearly half an inch thick. "I just did it a week ago," she adds apprehensively when I don't answer. "Do you think it's too much?"

Nothing about me is cute. I run my fingers through my short hair. I had short bob. I always cut my hair at least every two years. One year I cut my hair in a bob and Andre told me it was cute, so I’ve cut it like this ever since then. I’d let it grow out only to cut it again… Dammit! I just realized how obsessed I was with him… I need to forget about Andre. I can’t keep going on like this. It’s just so fucking sick how obsessed I am with him.

"He can cut just to fix the length. The tips. A palm. Or even leave the strands very short, only in a way that you can still comb and put back.” "Very short" I spoke in a firm tone, without hesitation. "Are you sure, my babe?” I observed the way Jessy frowned and the hairdresser who again imitated how the cut would look. "Yes, I got tired of this big hair.” "I even got attached to him," Jessy confessed with a vague look, clearly remembering the various moments when she held those wires in her hands, while I... She blinked, moving the scene away from her eyes. " But if you prefer it that way, that's fine.”