“I’m not accusing anyone, I’m just saying it looks suspicious.”
Christian let out a slow, passive exhale. His hands lifted in a defensive motion in front of his chest, clipper still buzzing, haircut halfway done. So yes, perhaps it was worth an accusation, but it was definitely not suspicious. His lips curled into a sarcastic smile, eyes crinkling in exaggeration of his annoyance but emphasized in an attempt at maintaining customer service.
“Look, I was your age four years ago, but I don’t think I asked this many questions while getting a haircut. C’mon man. Bogey on me if you behave a lil’ longer.”
In a tentative motion, Christian’s left hand cupped the side of the younger man’s head to continue his work, swift movements buzzing the clipper at the nape of his neck as the fade came gradual. He takes a moment to relax once more as he lets out a little laugh, remembering the tight-knit atmosphere of overtly tattoo’ed muscle heads.
“This your first time gettin’ a decent haircut? Or all the muscles scarin’ you a little?”
