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Will frowned. The bruise on his face was still flowering black and blue, tinged yellow at the outsides. His left eye was partially closed from the swelling. It was enough to make Maddox want to beat the Hades out of Ivan at the very least.
“What are we going to do with him then?”
“I don't know, boy.”
“He can't live in the basement forever.”
“Actually, he probably could. It would certainly keep the world a little safer if he did.”
“So you get me out of prison and put my dad in a prison,” Will said.
There was a heaviness about the boy now, a sadness and a weight Maddox wished wasn't there. Finding his father had not absolved him of any of his past pain, instead it had only served to add more. How perverse life could be.
He brushed Will’s hair out of his eyes and pressed his lips to Will’s in a gentle kiss. He wanted to comfort him. He wanted to make him reconnect with the real love that existed in the world for him. Will softened into the kiss and for a few blessed moments the mortal and the master enjoyed their connection.
“Mad,” Will said when they broke the kiss.
“Yes?”
“Will you give me a haircut?”
“What kind of haircut?”
“Just shave it all short.”
Maddox lifted a brow. “Why?”
“No reason,” Will said. “I just… It feels too heavy around my face. I want it gone.”
Maddox was happy to oblige, but he had not lived as long as he had without knowing that hair held great psychological significance to humans. This was not merely a haircut. This was a purging of something.
Still, he was not going to deny a harmless wish. Will had every right to determine the length of his own hair.
“Let’s do it in the kitchen,” he said. “Easier to clean up.”
“Everywhere is easy to clean up. Your whole house is concrete,” Will reminded him.
“True. Let’s do it in the kitchen anyway.”
The kitchen was where the heart lived, where truth might more easily be known.
Maddox set Will up on a stool and collected some electric clippers.
“Are you sure you want this?”
“Definitely,” Will said, teeth gritted as if he were guarding against some anticipated pain. “Please, just do it.”
The clippers hummed into life. Maddox tipped Will’s head forward. He would miss the easy grip, but it would grow back. Some things were more important than face-fuck holders. He put the clippers to the nape of Will’s neck and ran them up through the thick dark mane.
“So much better,” Will said as his beautiful hair began to drop to the kitchen floor. “So much…” His words were lost in a sob.
“My boy. My poor, sweet boy,” Maddox purred, putting the clippers to the side and stepping around to crouch in front of Will, taking Will’s hands in his own. “It will grow back.”
“I don't care about the hair. Why couldn't he have been normal? Why did he have to be a c…ca… cannibal!” Will leaned forward and sobbed against Maddox’s neck.
“I am sorry,” Maddox murmured. What else could he say? So many of life’s griefs were of the kind that one could never hope to alleviate in another, no matter how hard one might try. He held Will until the sobs slowed and then stopped.
“Do you want me to finish the haircut?”
