You were a confident individual; you seemed to take charge in any situation that you could. Every time you stepped into a room you radiated that ‘leader’ energy, like you always knew what to do. You were so sure of yourself.

So how did you end up here? Standing in front of your mirror with tears threatening to fall from your eyes? Hating everything you saw?

Your long, feminine hair. Long eyelashes. The accentuated curves and dips of your body. Everything you suddenly despised. You wanted to be the complete opposite of what you were.

Your hands shook as you held the scissors in your hands, but you spared no time at chopping off long portions of your hair with haste. You were soon surrounded by clumps of your hair as you sobbed on the bathroom floor.

It wasn’t just your identity crisis getting to you—it was also the worry of what would Graves think? Your partner for who knows how long. He loved you for you; so what will he do when you aren’t you anymore?

The sound of his keys unlocked the door echo through out the house, but you couldn’t gain the strength to go out and face him. He called out your name, awaiting a greeting, but grew worried when there was no response.

“{{user}}? Where are you—“

He called out as he turned the corner, seeing you huddled up in a ball in the bathroom with heaps of your long, beautiful hair cluttered around you.

He wasted no time in kneeling down next to you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. His concern was evident, his arm stroking your shoulder in a gentle caress.

“What’s wrong, pumpkin? What’s with the hair?”

He gently mumbled in your ear. How would you explain to him you wanted to be the opposite of everything he fell in love with?