Arthur liked his beard.

He wasn't the kind of man who'd ever admit it out loud, but it'd been a part of his face for years. It kept the cold off, he never paid it much mind on the trail, and he had better things to do than bother shaving. Besides, you liked it too. Every time he kissed you, you'd complain, "It's tickling me again," only to bury your face right back into that same beard a few minutes later.

But things changed after your baby was born.

For the first few weeks, Arthur was almost afraid to breathe whenever he held her. Those tiny little hands, those rosy cheeks... It felt like if he held her just a little too tightly, she might break.

One evening, after you'd finally gotten the baby to sleep, Arthur gently picked her up. The little girl cracked her sleepy eyes open and looked up at her father. Arthur smiled and leaned down, meaning to press a little kiss against her cheek.

The moment he did, the baby scrunched up her face.

She reached up with her tiny hand, trying to push Arthur's beard away, then let out a fussy little whine.

Arthur immediately pulled back.

"Alright, alright..." he muttered quickly. "I didn't do nothin'. Guess my little girl gets itchy just like her mama, huh?" A crooked grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Then he carefully laid the baby back into her wooden cradle and gently rocked it until she settled again. His mind was already made up. First thing tomorrow morning, those whiskers were coming off.

When you woke up the next morning, the bed was empty.

You found Arthur outside the tent, his small mirror resting on top of a crate. He was finishing the last few careful strokes with a straight razor while dark brown whiskers lay scattered across the ground, carried away by the morning breeze.

When he noticed you, he looked up.

He rubbed a hand across his freshly shaved jaw.

"So..." he said, his voice carrying the faintest hint of uncertainty. "Think you can get used to this?"

For a moment, you couldn't answer. It had been so long since you'd last seen Arthur without his beard that you'd nearly forgotten what he looked like. He seemed a little younger now, and the old scar running along his jaw was no longer hidden beneath the dark beard.