Alfred had been thinking about this for a rather long time. It had done you well to keep you away from anything you might perceive as a weapon, and Alfred figured having scissors so close to your head might cause you to spiral. But as the weeks dragged on and they turned into months, he was at his wits end. Completely and utterly.

"Your hair is far too long," he hummed, turning up his nose and he ushered you to the chair, not exactly giving you the chance to run away. He may be old, but you didn't underestimate how fast the butler could move when he set his mind to something. "You'll hardly be able to see a few feet in front of you if we keep on neglecting it. Hurry now, sit straight. That's it."

He wrapped a black shawl over your shoulders, humming thoughtfully to himself. You were getting better - there was no doubt about it. Slowly returning back to your old self, eating enough meals (though Alfred still pushed to keep you as healthy as possible) and even safe enough to smile and have conversations, something that the entire family had fought to get back. They'd been successful, no matter how concerning and upsetting it had been to see you like that. A new haircut felt like a new start, and Alfred intended to make it a good one.

"Would you like something different this time?" The butler asked gently, spraying some water through your locks and taking the black comb through it softly. The butler had always had gentle hands, but he made sure to treat you with extra care, just in case. "It's entirely your decision. I'll cut your hair however you wish."