Lexi, the Snip-Snip-Snipper

"No, no, I am categorical about this. I refuse."

"Blake, calm down."

"I OBJECT!"

"Jesus Blake, take a chill pill."

"JE M'Y OPPOSE!"

"Come on, it really isn't that big of a deal."

"Ten to eleven inches? Not that big of a deal? Are you out of your god damn mind, woman?"

"It really isn't that long Blake."

"Go tell that to a locker room full of guys. It is a big deal!"

"It's not even one foot."

"Don't even speak to me. No, just no."

"Blake, let's be rational about this."

"I don't see why I should. I married those ten to eleven inches. You have no right to throw them away like that, like they mean nothing."

"Oh my god Blake, would you listen to yourself?"

"This conversation is over. You're not cutting your hair."

"Well, you're a little too late honey. I already cut it."

"WHAT?"

"You heard me."

"No. No. No, no, no. This is a joke, this isn't real. That's like you saying you'll elope with Josh or Alex telling me he's in love with me. Just some sick twisted joke.

"I'll be pulling up in about ten minutes and you'll see how real it is," I answered, and ended the conversation.

Little bitch.

Sure, cutting my hair was kind of out of the blue, but I'd been shopping for Christmas presents and my hair kept getting stuck in my coat and scarf and it was full of static and it was annoying and I just decided the hell with it. Time to chop-chop-chop it. I'd had my long hair ever since high school. I was a married twenty one year old college student. It was time for a change.

Maybe I should have told Blake first. But I hadn't thought he'd react for fiercely. It was just hair. It could grow back.

It kind of made me feel down though, because I liked the haircut and now Blake was going to be such a fracking drama-queen over it.

Ugh. The idiot.

When I walked into our apartment, Blake was sitting on the couch with the hood of his hoodie pulled over his face and he had tightened the string so his face didn't show at all.

He looked completely ridiculous.

"What the hell are you doing Blake?"

"This is me protesting over this ludicrous decision of yours. I think we should still talk about it. I'm sure we can call the hairdresser and ask her to give you back your hair. You can do wonder with glue these days."

"Are you listening to yourself? It's just hair Blake."

"I don't think you comprehend the amount of love I have for your hair. I've watch that hair grow. I've loved it and cherished it. I've pulled it quite a lot of times. I'm married to that god damn hair. And you just cut it like that without even consulting me."

"Blake Fraking Eaton. You bought an apartment without consulting me. If someone should get their ass kicked for doing something without consulting the other it's you."

"But an apartment is inconsequential. You hair is a part of you."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer. Let's just get this straight. Are you saying you're going to suddenly stop loving me because I have short hair?"

"Oh I don't know," Blake threw his hands in the hair dramatically, "hair's just getting chopped away from left to right now," now he was making crazy hand gesture around his head, the lunatic, "anything is possible."

"I didn't stop loving you when you shaved your head," I pointed out, though I sort of regretted getting the subject up. His shaved head wasn't a particularly comforting time.

"I had no control over that, my shaved head was just a result of my weak brain. And that weak brain rejects your short hair."

I sighed. "You haven't even seen it yet."

Blake crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't want to. Don't need to."

"Blake Eaton, take the hoodie off right now."

Blake shook his head. He looked absolutely ridiculous with the hood still on, hiding his whole face. "No thanks. I plan on keeping it on for as long as it takes for your hair to regrow."

"Blake Eaton, take your fracking hoodie off, right now, or else you're never having sex ever again. I'll run away with Josh," I warned him.

Blake groaned incomprehensible words, spazzing on the coach, but then very reluctantly untied the string and took off his hoodie. His eyes were closed, so slowly, very slowly, he cracked one eye open. But then both eyes opened wide.

"Fuuuuuck... Okay, I take it back, I take it aaaaaall back," Blake said and I knew that look. Seriously? Seriously?

"Are you fracking kidding me right now?"

"Christ..." Blake added and now he wasn't just looking at my hair, he was looking at me, up and down.

"What?" I pressed, getting more pissed by the second.

I looked down at myself. Long black winter coat. Dark blue scarf. Red blouse. Black mini-skirt. Black-see-through tights. Black suede high heel boots that came all the way up over my knees. I might have been in a bit of a black phase.

Okay, so, haircut aside, I might have upgrading my wardrobe too. But hey, I was an adult now. It was time to move on from hoodies and ripped jeans and t-shirts. Sure, my wardrobe was still full of those, but sometimes it was nice to have nicer things, the kind of clothes that could keep Blake completely out of the loop for like hours. One time we went out for drink with Tyler, Vanessa, Nik, Alex, Travis, Daphnee and Josh and I had decided to wear one of my patterned blue mini skirt with a black kind of loosey crop top. Blake might have said like... ten words during the entire evening, he was too busy trying to run his fingers on every surface of skin that was showing.

"How come you didn't wake me up when you left this morning?"

"You were sleeping quite soundly and I had a tight schedule."

"Not the only tight thing you have Pumpkin."

"You're a little bitch," I exclaimed. "Two minutes ago you were basically divorcing me for cutting my hair and now you're hitting on me?"

"You're my wife. It's not called hitting on you anymore."

I shouldn't even ask, but I was stupid so I did. "What's it called then?"

"Getting ready for some Pumkin pie," Blake replied with a smirk.

I threw my hands in the air. "I can't believe you,"

"What?" he shrugged. "It's the right season for it."

"You know what? I let you get away with waaaay too much shit."

"Do you have a sudden urge to punish me?"

"That's it," I grabbed him by the collar, dragging him towards our room.

"Where are you taking me?" I took my laptop and opened it, "You want us to watch porn? You know porn does nothing for me when you're in the room, right?"

I hadn't needed to use this up until now, but today was the day. At our wedding, Josh had given me a gift. He had called the compilation "Torturous Ways to Get Blake Back In Line". It was basically anything Blake couldn't stand.

I took the CD out, put it in the computer and hit play.

A girl started to speak. In French. Disastrously.

Blake cringed. "Could you stop this please?"

"No."

"Pumpkin, this isn't funny."

"Not supposed to be."

"Lexi..."

I shushed Blake and let the girl destroy French some more. When she finally stopped talking Blake looked relieved.

"Okay, so I don't know where you got this but please neveeeeee OH MY GOD STOOOP THAT!"

I laughed at Blake outraged face while someone was now playing Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven. Playing was probably the wrong word though. Destroying might have been more adequate. Even I was cringing.

And obviously Blake couldn't stand it. He tried to get the laptop from me.

"No, no, no, nuh uh," I repeated fighting him over it. I was laughing a little because Blake could barely fight with me, he was too distracted by the atrocious music.

When he realized he was going to get the lap top from me he ran out of the room.

"Blake Eaton you're not getting away from this!" I yelled, running after him, turning the volume as high as it could get. We had a pretty epic sound system in our apartment. It was linked to the computer. He had nowhere to hide.

"Josh gave you this, didn't he?" Blake whined. He was hiding behind the counter in the kitchen, his arms wrapped around his head.

I smirked. "Yes he did."

"I thought you loved me?"

"Long hair Lexi did. Short hair Lexi is thinking about it."

"I'm sorry, please forgive me, oh Short-Haired-Goddess. I was wrong. You're smoking hot with short hair. I never should have even doubted the fact that you are always hot, regardless of the length of your hair. Actually, I might have a big thing for your short hair. You can't hide your boobs behind them now. Also I'll get a better access to your shoulders and neck."

I glared at him. "You're fracking hopeless..."

"Forgive me! I'm sooooorry. I'm an asshole. I only think with my dick. I'm a childish idiot." I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. "I kinda like the way that strand of hair falls over your face. You look all fierce and dramatic."

"You're not helping your case you little bitch."

"What can I do to be forgiven?" Blake pleaded, his hands pressed together in a plea.

"Nothing." I glared at him. "You're sleeping on the couch," I added and turned around leaving him in the kitchen.

For the rest of the evening I ignored the idiot. I didn't even want to make dinner for him, but because I didn't want him to set fire to our kitchen either, I just ordered Chinese. When it came time to go to bed, I didn't even tell him good night so he didn't dare to come anywhere near our bed.

The problem is, after all of the lights were out, I started to toss and turn. I couldn't fall asleep. I was used to not always having Blake in bed with me—the guy always had these crazy night projects—but what I wasn't used to was going to bed angry. I couldn't do that. It just wasn't right.

And what were we even fighting over? My stupid hair? Ugh.

After an hour of not falling asleep, I got up and tip toed to the living room. The curtains were open to the light from the moon casted a shadow on Blake's face. His eyes were wide open and he was staring at the ceiling.

I cleared my throat. Blake lifted himself, leaning on his forearms.

"Hey..." I whispered.

"Hey," Blake answered tentatively, like he was still worried he might say something stupid.

I didn't let him time to say anything more and joined him on the couch, lying right on top of him. His arms wrapped around me and I nestle my head under his chin.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Blake asked, his thumbs rubbing soothingly against my back.

"It means I should have figured you'd overreact over such a thing."

"But I really shouldn't have. I'm not in love with your hair. I'm in love with all of you. I'd still love you if you shaved your head. I'd love you if you had a double chin or if you got leprosy."

I chuckled at that. "Where would I get leprosy?"

Blake stroked my hair and kissed my forehead. "Don't know. I'd still love you though."

I sighed contently and held on to him tighter.

"I'm sorry for being an idiot Pumpkin," Blake whispered a few minutes later.

"It's okay. I knew you were an idiot when I married you," I answered, smiling.

"It's part of my charm."

"I'm probably being snippier because I'm PMSing."

Blake chuckled. I shook with his laughter. "PMSing or not, I was still an idiot."

"So, you like the hair?"

"I love the hair."