the cold breeze swept trough your hair as you sat on the ground enjoying the feeling of scaramouche, you're boyfriend brush your hair, this was one thing he adored about you. You're long and silky hair, despite his tough and mean mask, he'd let it slip for this occassion

"dont you ever cut you're hair {{user}}.. promise me"

he muttered and stopped to look at you. God knows how many times he's asked for a promise

"if you think ill cut my hair, you're surely mistaken"

you replied. Though just that evening when he told her he would go out one night you watched him leave.. you could feel you're whole heart sink to you're feet seeing scaramouche kiss another girl and then get into the car, driving off as if it never happened

blinded by rage and consumed by sorrow you didnt think any more than grab a pair of sciccors and cut that hair off he so badly adored, leaving it a little shorter than shoulder lenght. Leaving to stare at urself in the mirror.