the thought of you

"What better way for me to trust you," Casey smiled, thinking this was a bit absurd as he was holding the clippers in his hands in the middle of the kitchen ready to cut his own hair. "You should do it, Linsey."

"What," her eyes focused on him as her hands were still in the suds of the kitchen sink. She almost dropped a coffee cup on the floor, but it splashed in the sink instead. "Are you crazy?"

"My mom, always cut my hair when I was little," Casey decided he couldn't stand his hair anymore. A lot like having to have his imaginary friend in the corner who was still asking when Linsey would go home. What did he had to do to show him to give it up. He didn't want his old friend in his life, anymore.

"But, but that was your mom." She told him she'd never cut hair. Not even her own. She promised it would be a disaster. 

"It's OK, I trust you." Of course, it was more of a leap of faith. What more could he do? He'd had enough of this game, living with the guilt of his friend. After all, they were only friends, nothing more...nothing less.

Yes, it only hurt slightly now that he'd taken his life. That was how it was. They would never be lovers. Not even in Casey's imagination.

"Just cut it," Casey said.

"No," she shook her head, no. Not with the electric clippers. She went to get her own scissors from her purse. It was a small pair. She would do her best to trim it.

"Fine," he guessed they would have to take baby steps. Before she could turn to be behind him in the kitchen chair, he pulled her into his lap. He'd tried talking to her. He definitely wasn't going to think about the next step. Thankfully, the kiss came naturally.