No turning back by Emily

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Nicole rang the doorbell of Ethan’s flat. He had called her earlier that day, asking her to come. His voice had sounded serious, though he hadn’t wanted to say what it was about.

When he opened the door, he smiled nervously. Dressed only in jeans, his long dark hair — reaching halfway down his back — framed his face softly.

"What’s the matter?" Nicole asked. They were close friends, and Ethan often came to her for advice.

"I’ve signed a new contract," he began. "A major record label — this is a big deal, you know."

"That’s great!" Nicole grinned. Ethan was a talented musician, and she’d always believed he would make it one day. But something in his eyes told her there was a catch.

"They want me to cut my hair," he said, waiting for her reaction.

"Why?" Nicole frowned. "It’s part of your image."

"They want to change it. A fresh start, you know." He tried to sound calm, but his voice trembled slightly.

"Did you agree?" she asked, a teasing glint in her eyes. She knew how much his music meant to him — but his hair, too, had always been a part of who he was.

"I did," Ethan said after a pause. "I was excited at first, but now I’ve realized I actually have to do it. And…" he hesitated, "I want you to cut it."

"Me?" Nicole’s eyebrows lifted.

"Why not? I trust you more than anyone else."

Nicole felt a strange, pleasant shiver run through her. "You really want to do it now?"

"I just want to get it over with," Ethan said, pointing toward a pair of scissors lying on the table. Nicole hadn’t noticed them before.

"You’re well prepared," she chuckled softly, feeling an odd thrill as she took in the sight. Ethan picked up the scissors and held them for a moment, feeling their cold weight in his palm.

They stood facing each other.

"Are you sure?" Nicole asked, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear.

"Yes. I have to," he said weakly.

Nicole had often wondered what he might look like without his mane, but she had never imagined she would be the one to cut it. Gently, she took the scissors from his trembling hand, her fingers brushing against his.

Ethan looked into the mirror, taking in his reflection one last time — the long, flowing hair that had become part of his identity.

"Nervous?" Nicole teased, running her fingers through his locks.

He smiled faintly, trying to hide his fear. But she could tell — and she found it oddly thrilling.

Ethan glanced down. Soon the floor would be covered with his own hair.

Nicole touched his cheek softly, a loose lock brushing against her skin. The thought of cutting it suddenly felt strangely pleasant.

"Ready?" she whispered.

"Yes. Let’s do it," he replied, his voice barely steady.

Nicole brought the scissors close with one hand and laid the other on his chest.
"Your heart’s beating so fast," she murmured. She didn’t mean to be cruel — but there was something deeply fascinating about this moment. She wanted to savour it, even as she couldn’t wait to make the first cut.

She lifted a strand gently. Ethan shivered. He watched her in the mirror, his breath shallow, the scissors glinting in the lamplight.

Finally, Nicole pressed the blades together — slowly, deliberately.

The crisp snip broke the silence. Ethan felt the weight of the lock slide down his arm.

"Hope you’re feeling okay," Nicole whispered near his ear, smiling as she saw how thick his hair was. "It’s going to be a long haircut."

She took her time with the next strand. Ethan felt her fingers playing with it before the scissors closed again. His heart raced. This time, the severed hair fell softly onto his bare foot. He wanted to shake it off but couldn’t move. He just stared at his reflection.

"I think you’ll look great with short hair," Nicole said, pulling him out of his trance.

"I hope so," Ethan managed to smile.

"Anyway," she added with a mischievous glint, "there’s no turning back now."

Those words echoed in his mind — no turning back. He glanced at the floor, hoping she hadn’t noticed the fear in his eyes. But she had.

"Ready for another snip?" she asked, brushing a strand against his cheek and curling it around her finger.

He wanted to tell her to hurry, but something held him back. He was nervous, yes — but there was something almost magnetic about the intimacy of it.

She cut again. This time she didn’t let the lock fall; she placed it carefully on his shoulder. Ethan felt it slide against his skin, realizing it was no longer part of him. Then Nicole flicked it off — it floated down and joined the growing pile on the floor.

"It must feel nice — soft against your skin," she teased, though she knew it didn’t.

Nicole wasn’t sure why she was acting this way. She loved him, but the slow ritual of cutting his hair was strangely satisfying. His quickened heartbeat, his trembling — it made him look so vulnerable.

The quiet rhythm of the scissors filled the air. Another strand. Then another.

"There’s still so much hair to cut," Nicole broke the silence. "We won’t be done any time soon."

Ethan sighed, realizing he had no choice but to endure it.

"I love the sight of it on the floor," she teased again, twirling a lock between her fingers before cutting it off. The pile at his feet grew thicker and darker with every snip.

"Relax," she said softly, touching his hand. "Or do you want a break?"

She met his eyes in the mirror and caught a flash of terror in them. She didn’t stop. The more hair on the floor, the better.

At last, only one lock remained. Nicole took her time, curling it gently and brushing it across his shoulder before the final cut. The lock slid down, landing softly among the rest.

Nicole ruffled his newly short hair and smiled. "You look so hot now."

Ethan studied his reflection. To his surprise, he quite liked it. Even after all that tension, it suited him.

"There’ll be a lot of girls in love with you now, I’m afraid," Nicole joked.

"Thanks, Nicole," Ethan said, touching his head with a trembling hand.

"My pleasure." She met his eyes in the mirror. "I loved every second of this haircut. Thanks for letting me do it."

Ethan smiled. "Though for a moment, I wanted to kill you for the way you did it."

"I know," she chuckled. "I just couldn’t help it."

Nicole glanced at the floor, feeling an odd warmth. "Your hair looks beautiful down there, doesn’t it?" she teased once more.

Ethan turned toward her — and kissed her.

Nicole was surprised; they’d only ever been friends. But she didn’t stop him.

"Will you be my fan too?" he asked softly.

"The biggest one," she smiled, kissing him back.

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