thinking about how short driver’s hair is, shaved careful and close at his neck. thinking about him going for his first haircut after everything — because his hair is getting long and touching his neck and he Hates It, it makes him want to crawl out of his skin even more than he already always does nowadays, and he’s thinking maybe it’ll make him feel more human, feel more normal, looking like himself again even after everything.
but then he’s sat in the barber’s chair, and sees his own empty-eyed reflection in the mirror in front of him, sees the man stood behind him with a blade glinting in the light — a straight razor being brought close, coming for his neck — and driver scrambles to his feet like a scared animal and runs.
YESSSSSSSSSSSS i have NEVER been normal about men getting haircuts especially men like driver bc there is no way he cuts his hair himself, u just cant do that. someone is cutting his hair at least every 6-12 weeks. someone is draping a cape and tucking it around his collar and putting their finger on his jaw or the side of his head, moving it into place, and running clippers up the back and side of his skull. they're switching to scissors and pushing a comb through his fringe and asking him how much. they're snipping, snipping, little pieces of dark wet hair falling against his skin and against the cape. at MINIMUM they're taking the guard off the clippers and pressing the line in around his ears and his nape. if we're really really lucky they're pressing a hot damp towel against the back of his neck, pushing his head down, and leaving it there while they take the blade out of the disinfectant and check the sharpness. and then they're keeping his head down with firm fingers on one hand, scraping the blade so carefully, so sharp that it takes off the top layer of skin on the back of his neck and he can feel the air moving, the skin so fresh it stings and he can't move. can't even shiver until they wipe away the hair. putting the hand mirror up and showing him the back and expecting him to say something. tell them something, and all he can do is nod, feeling naked and exposed and stripped bare, especially when they whip the cape off and all the little hairs fall away and he's left blinking down at his own body again, revealed and somehow disconnected, and all he can feel is how light his head feels and naked and vulnerable the back of his neck is. walking around all day with the air and his collar against that naked, fresh wound of his nape, tiny pieces of loose hair digging into his skin through his shirt and his jeans and his shoes. ANYWAY can u tell im normal about someone cutting drivers hair. can u tell-
