'Nate, your hair is terrible.' Thea said, handing Rip the scissors and taking the mirror with their other hand. Rip then began to cut it and tears pricked at the edge of Thea's eyes. Not for Nate's hair, for their own; and what their own hair meant to them and how it was often connected to their own (and Rip's) trauma.

'Thea, are you alright?' Nate asked quietly as the last lock of his hair fell to the ground.

'Yeah, I'm fine.' Thea replied, staring into the mirror for one second longer than normal before placing it back onto the table and looking back at Nate. 'I'm so sorry, it's just a whole lot to process. I don't know why I'm crying.'

Nate then stood up and walked to the doorway. 'See you on the other side!' Nate said, mock saluting. Thea waved back, a forlorn look in their eyes.

'I know when you're lying, Thea.' Rip said softly. 'What are you thinking about, really?'

'I promise I'll tell you when you get back.' Thea replied, standing up and walking away from him.

[ Author's Note ]

This is referencing something I realised I didn't have the narrative seeds planted for, so it's not needed. :]

21st September 2022