Smooth Operator

Hair Cut

Harry closed the front door with a sigh. It had been a long week and the only thing he was looking forward to was spending the evening on the couch with take out and his love.

Rocco appeared instantly with his tail wagging. Harry scratched his head in greeting, looking into his dog's innocent eyes. He threw his keys into the bowl on the entrance table and shrugged his jacket off to hang it on his designated hook, his heart heavy with the news he received that day.

He could hear her shuffling around in the kitchen, a faint "hi baby!" carrying down the length of the hallway as he kicked off his shoes. He could literally feel the way his body relaxed a bit just from hearing her voice.

With a deep breath, he made his way into their home, the smell of cinnamon getting stronger as he got closer to the kitchen. She was pulling cinnamon rolls from the oven when he got to the doorway, leaning against the frame as he watched her.

"You're home late," she spoke absentmindedly with her back to him. "Did you get caught up on that security scan?"

She pulled her oven mitts off and turned off the oven as she waited for his response. But it never came. When she turned around to look at him, his head was down, eyes cast on his feet, still in the doorway.

"What's wrong?" she asked quietly.

His face was so sad, eyes tired when he looked up to meet her gaze after a moment. He crossed his arms slowly with a slight shake of his head.

"Tom's youngest has leukemia." His voice was barely above a whisper, eyebrows furrowed with emotion.

"Oh my god," she exhaled, leaning back against the counter. "Shit."

"He just told me," Harry shook his head again. Brielle pulled herself from the counter, making her way over to him. "I feel so bad for them," Harry breathed as she wrapped her arms around his waist and tucked her face into his neck.

"I know, baby."

They were quiet for a while, holding each other in the doorway of their kitchen, letting the reality of the news sink in.

Harry sniffled, stroking his hand up and down Brielle's back.

She pulled her face from his neck, looking up at his wet eyes. She pushed her fingers into his hair, tenderly scratching his head before pulling her fingers down through his long curls.

"Will you cut my hair?" He asked abruptly. "Wanna... wanna donate it."

Brielle's eyebrows creased as she nodded, wrapping her arm around his waist. "Come on," she breathed as she pulled him from the doorframe.

And he walked with her towards their bathroom, his arm draped around her shoulder and his lips on her temple.

***