admittedly, he didnât quite care for a new haircut ( his hair is fine the way it is, as it has never bothered him ) yet gives a slight shrug, not exactly meeting the stylistâs eyes. he can tell heâs welcome here, but his anxiety says otherwise â heâs tense, apprehensive, scanning the room with his wide range of vision. something peculiar catches his eye â a mirror against one wall, the reflection splintered into a spiderweb of cracks.Â
heâs careful not to look too long to glimpse his own reflection; he doesnât want to see what he looked like when he died, much less the supposed ragged mess of his hair. instead, his gaze fixates on the salon employee once more, rounded pupils seeming to thin just slightly.Â
âthatâs nice of him to do,â itâs an idle comment, a hand subconsciously reaching up to brush back bangs, uneven strands hanging into his eyes. perhaps it wouldnât hurt to get a bit of it cut, right? âi donât really have a style preferenceâŚâ itâs ragged and choppy, uneven all around; he had simply gotten used to it, though the length was getting a little too long for comfort. a small smile if offered, a little stiff at the corners â something about all of this weighs heavily over him, a foreboding sense of unease. âis that alright?â
      â no preference--? â  he had been hoping for some idea, but in the end he supposes it doesnât really matter if he had one or not. anything better than a mess of hair  ( or bangs that cover half your face, leaving your eyes a mystery as his was before )  will help the customer find a job that much faster, let him adjust to normal life.  a customerâs a customer, after all,  &&  heâs got bills to pay. ( thereâs something fulfilling about helping others, as well ; a better, more meaningful HELP than killing criminals. )Â
      â thatâs fine, we can cut bit by bit until you like it, or think of something youâd like. â  a waving motion of his hand, directing him towards the chair  &&  wash basin.  â weâll have to wash it first, but it wonât take long. â  he feels the need to be gentle with him, more careful. not from fear of the monster  ( he assumes, seeing as only monsters are to fall to hell )  lashing out suddenly should he mess up, but the general way he acts - a scared cat, ed would compare him to. attentive, tense, scanning every detail, remembering paths  &&  escape routes.
     itâs understandable. he just died, after all,  &&  unlike ed, the shock hasnât worn off just yet. for him, it was over quite quickly, gone within a flash. he knew heâd die one day, he was just .. waiting for it, living his ânormalâ life until that day, his only proof of living being the heads he cut off. Â