The moment Embry felt the tug of his hair tangling in his armour, he knew the fair strands finally needed a thorough cut. He rarely did it. Even with the back and sides cropped close for convenience, he never wore his hair short all over. It made him feel exposed.

“Ugh…” he sighed and tried to untangle the knotted strand from his shoulder buckle.

Aik eyed him with amusement. “Mate, you should just braid it if you want to keep it long. Otherwise, Carla will give you shit for it. Nobody wants an Undead dragging you around by your fancy fringe… again.”

“Ugh!” Embry rubbed his face. Too many bad memories. Been there, done that.

***

“No!”

“Excuse me?”

“You cannot cut it! I—”

Kuo stared at him, looking freaked out and confused. The latter, perhaps, and almost certainly, because he had blurted out that exclamation without thinking twice about such a strong display of emotions. His ears and face were on fire. He closed his mouth with an audible click and started to scuttle away towards the sewing rooms.

“Kuo…” Embry sighed, trailing after him. “Kuo, wait. Can you stop running away, please?”

His Page always kept his thoughts and feelings too closely guarded.

Why the mere mention of a little hair chopping had him panicking was interesting and not something that could be simply swept under the rug – though that was clearly Kuo’s hope as he yanked at the locked door, huffing, “Just do as you like, Embry. It’s your head!”

He rattled the door handle again, then gave up, grumbling. When he turned around with stiff shoulders and a disgruntled frown, Embry moved closer.

“Are you done sulking? Can we talk now?”

The Mage leaned casually against the bannister next to the door and his fuming Page.

“Is it so hard to just say what you’re thinking? You know I won’t laugh.”

Kuo eyed him warily, his mouth a thin line. He started to fiddle with a loose thread. Red. Embry wondered absently which of the many weird stitch-spells his Page had embroidered into his jacket would be affected by the touch. The younger man finally sighed and slid down the smooth, cold wall, rubbing at his tattooed neck.

“I like your hair, okay? I like that, in an instant, I can single you out in a sea of people.”

His face turned a light shade of pink as he stared at the stone. He took a deep breath and then looked up.

“I was there when you came back from the field – when you were beaten and battered. I mean… we all saw you coming back. And everybody was muddy and covered in blood. And yet you still stood out with your light hair and that weird cut.”

Embry laughed and crouched down. “Yeah, right. Because your haircut isn’t weird at all.”

Kuo’s hand instantly shot up to cover his head. “My hair is NOT weird. It’s cow licks.” His blush seemed to be permanently burned into his skin.

Embry leaned forward. “Hmhmmm….. sure. So… no short hair? Carla might disagree with it.”

The Page stared at the light strands falling softly against his face. Embry’s was finer than his own thick, dark hair. It looked like baby hair and he couldn’t help but reach out and touch the long strands..

“It’s so soft.” He twisted one around his fingers and let it slowly slip. It felt like hackled flax, silky and smooth. “Let me cut it. If you really want a cut that badly, let me do it.”

“Ummm...”

Embry trusted his Page. A lot. Well, most of the time.

But sometimes Kuo was unpredictable, at best, and that meant results could be either absolutely perfect or not in Embry’s favour.

At all.

Kuo tugged the strand again, recapturing Embry’s attention. “Gods, stop overthinking. You’ll just hurt your pretty head,” he said, before his brow creased. “So... just as short as it was when you first arrived, right?”

The Mage was still busy processing the compliment, but something clicked. “You.”

Kuo huffed and rolled his amber eyes. “Yeah, still here.”

Embry’s eyes widened, and he whispered, “No. I mean... I felt a Spark when I arrived, and I fell off my horse because I was so drawn to them. I fainted before I hit the ground, but I remember that much. I never made the connection to the proposal. That Spark was you, right?”

Kuo‘s face soured. “Yeah... and then Aro gave you to Berrin.”

He shoved to his feet, still huffy.

“So,” he asked, “haircut? Yes or no?”

Like the haircut was more important than the information Embry had just received.

It made sense. Aro’s decision hadn’t felt right then, but his protectiveness over Kuo might have led him to the harsh decision to keep Kuo out of the equation until it hadn’t been possible to keep them apart.

“If I end up looking ugly for months, I’m blaming you.”

Kuo laughed, nodded and settled his hands around Embry’s head. “This might smell funny,” he said and that was all the warning Embry got before his hair sizzled and lit up as the smell of thunder and lightning filled his nose.

He sneezed and saw several locks of hair tumble down, glowing with blue flames, then vanish moments before they hit the ground.

Huh.

Kuo looked pleased and craned his neck to see all of the flax coloured mop of hair. “You might get zapped when you touch it, but it looks fine to me.”

Embry stared in confusion. “Did you really come up with a spell just to cut hair?”

Kuo shrugged. “Yeah... I mean... I don’t like people touching mine, so it was necessary. And it burns the hair up, so nobody can use it for curses and bonding.”

“You are so-”

A bell went off. That urgent ring meant trouble.

Embry cursed. “Shit, I have to go.”

He pecked Kuo’s cheek without thinking – and without giving the Page a chance to shove him away.

“Thank you. I’ll see you tonight.”

He ran off to the sanctum to grab his gear, only half aware of the “Sure. Be careful!” yelled after him.

Hours later, when he dragged his sore and sorry body into the bath house, waiting for the hot water to soothe his aching bones, he remembered. They never talked about the shared dreams.

Ever.

Kuo refused with all his might. But he’d slipped up. And that was all the verification Embry needed.

He leant back, groaning in pain, sinking lower into the hot water with a sigh.

At least the nights were becoming more interesting. That was worth the scratches, stitches and sores.

It would always be.