Miles Morales Haircut Real Life Novels & Stories

One-Mile was expecting a lot of blah-blah and bullshit about Cutter and their budding love or whatever the fuck she thought they shared. “I don’t know you.” “We can fix that. I’m game. How about you?” She shook her head. “I know what you do for a living.” She didn’t like it, but she also didn’t understand that he was doing the world a goddamn favor by offing scum. “Good. Then we won’t have to have that awkward conversation. What else?” “You scare me.” He had to give Brea credit; that was honest. One-Mile took a risk and held her hand. “I said I’d never hurt you. I meant it.”

And I was going to do it. I walked up to the mirror and stared at myself. I'd come a long way to give up now. The cartel would be mine. My hair was growing wildly and I realized it was a while since I had a haircut. Or even a shave. I packed it up in a ponytail and walked to get my towel.

I groaned as I woke up from my alarm groggily, and pushed my hair back with one hand. My long wavy silver hair was now chopped off till my shoulders. Not that I looked bad, though. It had been a week now with my new wolf cut hair that my mom did for me. And it turned out, I was actually born for this haircut. The best part is I don't even need to style it with blow dryer and curlers like others as strangely my hair stays in like that even when I wake up.

“Oh God, yes. I understand now what all the ladies mean when they say the best part of a haircut is getting a shampoo. I had no idea it was this amazing!” “Do you not get your hair washed with your haircuts?” “Oh, I don’t get my hair cut. I do it myself. I do Maddie’s too. I think the last professional haircut I had was when I was… oooh, 15, maybe? It’s been a really long time.” Melinda doesn’t answer, and I look back at her. She has a sad expression and I realize she is pitying me. “Please don’t. I didn’t tell you for you to pity me.”

The truth in his words resonated with the room, and they all burst into laughter. Morris chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, Miles, I appreciate the comparison, but I would hardly say I resemble the great Benedict Cumberbatch." Miles shrugged, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Come on, Morris! You've got that strong jawline, those intense eyes, and that distinctive British charm. It's uncanny!" I joined in on the laughter, unable to deny the resemblance. Staring at Morris, I couldn't help but see the faint echoes of the renowned actor in his features. It was as if time had somehow looped back, granting Morris a glimpse into his youth.

Upon entering I was flabbergasted to see a snake inside the store. 'Oops wait! Not a snake but a pig.' my bitchy mind thinks aloud. I sat on the opposite chair as her. She just started as well and it seems she's getting a new cut. Probably to impress more people because of the stupid gossip going around. My usual hairstylist was the one who was cutting her hair so I requested her. "Madilyn can you accommodate me today I feel comfortable doing business with you. Please." I said while scrolling through my phone. "But Ms. Carter I'm still not finished. Can you wait a little bit more?" she asked nervously.

She had said. "Thanks." He replied, his voice deep in a way that made me shiver and I kept staring at him, unable to look away. His ebony hair was damp, indicating that he had just showered and as the shirt he wore hugged his biceps paired with loose fitting pants, I could not deny that Hardin Morales was probably one of the most gorgeous male I had ever laid eyes on. But then, that gorgeousness meant nothing when I remembered that behind that face and body was someone who hated me and my mother. Also, he bullied people and treated everyone like they were the dust beneath his feet.

A week later, the day of my father's funeral arrived, and I continued mourning his loss. On that fateful Sunday morning, the day of the funeral, I went for a haircut, seeking a brief distraction. Little did I know, trouble awaited me. My personal hairstylist, also in mourning, decided to intensify my grief. He shaved off every single strand of hair on my head, turning me into someone unrecognizable. I couldn't even recognize myself. Despite it all, I maintained my composure out of respect for the late Alpha.

She was prowling restlessly, anxiously watching everything unfolding. “Guys,” a woman came from the direction Miles had come. She was tall with a bob cut and a freckled face. Very pretty in a girl-next-door kind of way. She rested a hand on Miles’s shoulder, which made Cortina snarl. I pressed my lips together to try and hide it, but it was already too late. Mick pulled me tightly against him after Miles’s lips lifted in a small grin.

I whispered softly, trying to hide the sobs that were choking me. But Giselle shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “My hair is gone, Mommy. I’m not beautiful anymore,” she said in a voice so soft and broken. James, who had been silent up until now, suddenly stood up. He picked up the scissors from the table and glanced at me for a moment. I looked at him, wondering what he was thinking. But before I could stop him, he started cutting his own hair. Strand after strand fell quickly to the floor.