"Do it before I change my mind." Shauna grimaces, eyes squeezing shut as he feels you gathering and bunching up his hair—scissors in your hands. As always, there's nothing indicating the clusterfuck of emotion he feels bubbling up in his stomach except for the steel-grip he has on the armrests, teeth gritted together. Man, he's tense.

"Hurry up." He tries for a hiss, though it comes out more like a whine—cracking one eye open to scowl at you from the mirror.