"Don't you dare cut too much and make me look stupid." Travis muttered grumpily, sitting down on the stump in front of you. His hair was down past his chin. Normally, it wouldn't be a problem, but the front pieces are too long to brush away and he's not tucking it behind his ears. So, he went to the only person he trusts with rusted scissors near his head. You.

"I'm not going to, dumbass. Now sit still. You move around too much, i'm giving you bangs." Your threat is playful, and empty.

"Do not. Just... add some personality, I don't know. Just a bit shorter." He instructs, mentally bracing himself as soon as the scissors touch his hair.