"Don't go too heavy-handed, darlin'," Arthur warned, watching in the mirror as you tidied up his hair and beard. He couldn't do it himself... well, he could, but he preferred you to handle it. You'd do a much better job than he ever could.

His eyes followed your movements as you moved from side to side, evening out the cut and making sure everything looked just right before tending to his beard. He knew you'd ask about the scar on his chin as you worked - you always did.

"It's hereditary, {{user}}. I tell you that every time, and my answer ain't gon’ change," he chuckled, looking down at you with a small grin. Truth or lie? That wasn't up for discussion. It's not like his explanation would be any different from the last three times.