Dear Diary - Part 2

Date: January 5, 2024

Dear Diary,

The months have flown past, just as the length of my hair has. That dramatic long bob I sported has grown gracefully into an elegant mid-back length. I can't help but feel relieved that I left those frequent haircut days behind. My hair has been slowly but surely returning to its former glory, and I've come to appreciate the beauty of patience and the journey of growth.

Date: February 20, 2024

Dear Diary,

In a surprising turn of events, I found myself at a local pub with my workmates, enjoying a few beers to unwind. That's when someone lightly tapped my shoulder, and when I turned around, I saw this gorgeous girl with shoulder length het black hair with bangs that met her eyebrows. She introduced herself at Kayleigh, the barberette from the barbershop I got my frequent haircuts from and inquired about my well-being, expressing her slight worry over why I had been getting haircuts so frequently. She understood the addictive allure of the barbershop experience. I told her I was fine and I complimented her bangs. She commented that my new hair length suited me and suggested I try fringes.

Perhaps it was the few beers I'd had, but in a surge of spontaneity, I agreed without hesitation. Kayleigh, brimming with confidence, mentioned she had the keys to the barbershop and could open it up for me right then and there to give me fringes. In my slightly tipsy state, I eagerly accepted. We hailed a taxi to the barbershop, both of us perhaps overly confident in our decisions.

Once at the barbershop, I took a seat, and to my surprise, Kayleigh didn't bother with a cape. She quickly sectioned my hair and pulled out her clippers. The humming of the clippers sent shivers down my spine as I had never used clippers before. With a comb as a guide, she made one swift motion, cutting my hair to create the fringes, and it was a dramatic moment. My heart raced as I watched those clippings of hair fall to the floor.

With precision, she pulled out pieces from my temples, creating face-framing layers that blended seamlessly with the fringes, sitting right above my eyebrows. I couldn't help but admire my reflection in the mirror. But what happened next took me by surprise - Kayleigh kissed me. The world spun, and the next thing I knew, I woke up in her bed the following morning.

Date: March 10, 2024

Dear Diary,

My bangs have grown over the past weeks and now they're starting to poke my eyes, which has become quite annoying at work. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Armed with craft scissors and an exhilarating sense of excitement, I carefully trimmed my own bangs. It was a surprisingly satisfying experience, and I couldn't help but feel tempted to cut more or perhaps even trim the rest of my hair. However, I managed to resist that temptation, at least for now.

Date: April 5, 2024

Dear Diary,

I received a text from Kayleigh, asking to meet at the pub because she had something to show. When we met, I couldn't help but notice her immaculate bangs, but her hair length had reduced quite a bit, and the once jet-black hair was now adorned with highlights of cherry red. I hugged her, expressing my admiration for her new hair. But that wasn't the only surprise she had in store.

She took my hands and glided them along her nape, revealing a daring shaved undercut. A shiver ran down my spine as my fingers lingered on the shaved part. I couldn't help but wish she would ask me if I wanted the same haircut, to experience that same sensation. However, the topic of the haircut remained untouched for the rest of the night. 

As I went home, I couldn't stop picturing that shaven undercut, but I resisted the temptation. The thought of getting such a haircut still sounded a bit too scary.

Date: April 20, 2024

Dear Diary,

It's been a few days since I met Kayleigh, but her haircut keeps haunting my thoughts. I'd been trying to avoid texting her, but the temptation grew too strong to resist. I finally sent a message, requesting the same daring haircut she had shown me. Kayleigh's response conveyed her surprise that a blonde like me would take such a bold step, but she graciously agreed to give me the same haircut.

Late one night, after a tiring day at work, I walked into the barbershop. To my surprise, Kayleigh was the only person there. She warmly welcomed me to the chair, and her once-shaved undercut had grown into a short, fuzzy buzzcut. As I settled into the chair, my excitement began to wane, replaced by nervousness.

Sensing my apprehension, Kayleigh placed her reassuring hands on my shoulders, instantly calming my racing heart. She began by securing the cape around me, its touch strangely soothing. With precision, she sectioned the hair at my nape into an inverted V shape, a departure from her own straight undercut. The rest of my hair was gathered into a bun, awaiting its transformation.

The low hum of the clippers filled the room as Kayleigh prepared to begin. Anticipation coursed through me, causing goosebumps to ripple across my skin. With a deft hand, she smoothly glided the clippers through my thick hair, the sound muffled by the dense strands. With each pass, strands of hair tumbled to the floor, creating a dramatic scene that made my heart race.

Once the clippers had done their work, Kayleigh picked up a shaver, deftly eliminating any stray hairs, leaving my nape smooth and exposed. The feeling was thrilling and unexpectedly intimate, and I couldn't resist reaching under the cape to touch the freshly shaved nape. It was incredibly smooth to the touch, even smoother than Kayleigh's original undercut.

She then applied shaving cream on my undercut, followed by a change of the blade on the straight-edge razor. A spritz of alcohol and the razor touched my nape, gliding with precision. It sent shivers down my spine, and my fingers sought out the newly shaved nape, exploring the sensation.

Once the shaving was complete, Kayleigh released my bun, allowing my hair to cascade down unevenly due to the undercut. She dampened my hair with a sprayer bottle, the sensation of water hitting my undercut both ticklish and unusual. With practiced ease, she combed out the wet hair behind me, carefully trimming along the shortest length, the distinct snipping sound filling the air as wet snippets fell to the floor.

My hair's length was now reduced to rest at my shoulder blades, a significant change from its former state. Kayleigh proceeded to blow-dry and straighten my hair, ultimately tying it into a high ponytail to showcase the undercut. We both couldn't resist running our hands over the newly created style. That night, I spent another evening at Kayleigh's place, content yet still slightly bewildered by the unexpected twists and turns in my life.

Dear Diary

Date: October 5, 2023

Dear Diary,

Today was the start of a new journey. I decided to leave behind the troubles of my hometown and embark on an adventure in this bustling city. As I explored the unfamiliar streets, my eyes were drawn to a unique sight - a barbershop that welcomed both men and women. This was a novelty I hadn't encountered back home. The idea of changing my look intrigued me, so I mustered the courage to step inside.

The atmosphere within was starkly different from the cozy salons I had grown accustomed to. They draped a black cape around me, securing it with a snug collar. It sent a shiver of excitement and apprehension down my spine. My thick, golden blonde hair, which cascaded down to well below my butt, was about to undergo a significant transformation.

I watched with fascination in the mirror as the skilled barber began the meticulous haircut process. With precision, he sectioned my hair, gently combing it out before the first snip of the scissors. The sound of those scissors slicing through my hair was both thrilling and intimidating. Strand by strand, my hair was reduced to waist length. What struck me as a delightful surprise was the attention to detail at the nape - a clean and precise neckline that added a touch of sophistication to the whole experience. The soft whisper of hair falling onto the cape and the shop's floor was a symphony of change.

Afterward, they blew dry my freshly trimmed locks, and I felt a renewed sense of confidence as I left the shop, pondering the exciting new chapter that this haircut had initiated.

Date: October 8, 2023

Dear Diary,

A few days have passed since my first visit to the barbershop. I must confess that I've developed a fondness for the change it brought to my life. It's remarkable how a simple haircut can alter not only one's appearance but also their entire outlook. 

Yet, I find myself contemplating the idea of returning for another transformation. My hair has always been long, and the thought of cutting it again so soon feels impulsive. Is the allure of the barbershop experience reason enough, or am I simply being whimsical? I guess I'll have to give it more thought.

Date: October 9, 2023

Dear Diary,

I succumbed to the temptation today. While out grocery shopping, I passed by the barbershop, and it was as if my feet had a mind of their own, leading me inside. The barber recognized me from my previous visit and suggested I try long layers with curtain bangs. The idea excited me, and I agreed, feeling a mix of anticipation and trepidation as they draped the cape around me once again.

The haircut process was nothing short of an intricate dance. The barber meticulously snipped and layered my hair, each cut carefully calculated for a more dynamic and stylish look. As they worked their magic, I could feel the weight of my hair diminishing, replaced by a sense of lightness and rejuvenation. Once again, my length was slightly reduced, but this time, it was a deliberate choice. Leaving the shop, I walked wondering if I was becoming addicted to these exhilarating transformations.

Date: October 15, 2023

Dear Diary,

My new job has been a source of immense frustration, making me question the wisdom of my decision to move here. I yearned for something to uplift my spirits, to feel good about myself once more. The thought of another haircut crossed my mind. Perhaps, it's become my form of therapy.

Date: October 16, 2023

Dear Diary,

Today, I experienced an impulsive moment that will likely stay with me forever. Exhausted after another infuriating day at work, the bus passed by the barbershop just as it was about to close. Without thinking, I disembarked at the next stop and walked in, catching the tired barber's weary gaze. He asked what I wanted, but I was unprepared, and I blurted out, "Cut it short." His frustration was evident, but he consented.

My heart pounded as I settled into the chair, knowing that this haircut would be the most dramatic of them all. My golden blonde hair, still damp from the rainy evening, clung to my back, reaching its longest point. The barber wasted no time, swiftly gathering my hair into a tight ponytail, securing it with a hairband. The anticipation was palpable as I watched in the mirror.

With a pair of sharp scissors, he positioned them just below the hairband, and with one decisive snip, my long, beloved ponytail fell away. It was an emotional moment, seeing that cascade of hair tumble onto the cape and floor, a symbol of release and liberation.

Next came the meticulous dampening of my remaining hair. The barber sprayed it lightly, ensuring it was just the right amount of damp for precision cutting. The scissors danced through my hair, crafting a bold and daring long bob, a stark contrast to the flowing tresses I had always cherished. The curtain bangs that had framed my face were trimmed expertly to seamlessly blend with the bob, framing my face in a way I hadn't experienced before.

As the final touch, the barber reached for a curling iron. With practiced hands, they transformed my newly cropped hair into a messy, tousled long bob. The curls cascaded elegantly, creating a playful and chic appearance. It was a transformation beyond anything I had imagined, and as I gazed at my reflection, I felt a mix of exhilaration and trepidation.

However, in that moment, a wave of realization washed over me. I might have taken things too far this time. My once-long, flowing hair was now dramatically shorter, and I questioned whether I had become too impulsive in my pursuit of change. It dawned on me that I needed to exercise restraint and put an end to these frequent visits to the barbershop. 

Locks of trust

In a charming, vintage apartment building nestled on a tree-lined street, lived a young man named Jake. He was a friendly, responsible tenant, always on time with his rent and eager to help around the property when needed. His landlady, Mrs. Reynolds, was a middle-aged woman with an alluring, timeless beauty. She had a vibrant personality and a head of striking chestnut hair that cascaded down her back.

One sunny Saturday morning, Jake was tending to the garden in the apartment courtyard when he noticed Mrs. Reynolds struggling to trim a particularly stubborn branch of a rose bush.

"Need a hand, Mrs. Reynolds?" Jake called out.

Mrs. Reynolds turned with a grateful smile. "Oh, Jake, that would be wonderful. This branch just won't cooperate."

Jake approached, deftly snipping the branch with the garden shears. As he worked, they engaged in light conversation, sharing stories of their lives, dreams, and interests. Their connection grew stronger with each passing moment.

A few weeks later, Jake encountered Mrs. Reynolds in the building's communal kitchen, lamenting her long hair and the time-consuming effort it took to maintain it.

"You know, Jake," she said hesitantly, "I've been thinking about getting a shorter haircut. But I'm a bit nervous about it."

Jake, ever the helpful soul, offered, "I've never given anyone a haircut before, but I'd be willing to give it a try, Mrs. Reynolds. I think I could give you a haircut."

Mrs. Reynolds hesitated for a moment, then smiled warmly. "That would be lovely, Jake. Thank you for offering."

They set a date for the haircut, and on a quiet Sunday afternoon, Mrs. Reynolds sat in a chair in her spacious living room, her heart racing with nervous anticipation. Her chestnut locks were neatly tied in a bun at the nape of her neck, a visual symbol of the transformation she was about to undergo.

Jake, armed with a pair of scissors, a comb, and a sense of determination, stood ready to transform her look. He approached her with gentle confidence, his hands deftly undoing the bun. As he released her hair, it cascaded down her back like a waterfall of chestnut silk, gleaming in the soft sunlight that streamed through the window. 

Jake asked in a gentle tone, "Mrs. Reynolds, how short are you thinking for your new haircut?"

Mrs. Reynolds hesitated for a moment, her fingers nervously tracing the ends of her long hair. "I'm not entirely sure, Jake. I've thought about a shorter style, but I trust your judgment. Maybe you can decide."

Jake nodded, understanding her uncertainty. He gathered her hair and gently tied it near the bra strap level, creating a sense of anticipation in the room. The chestnut locks were bound in place, awaiting their fate.

With a calm demeanor, Jake took a deep breath and looked into Mrs. Reynolds' eyes. "Before we proceed, Mrs. Reynolds, I want to make sure you're absolutely certain about this. Once I cut your hair, there's no turning back. Are you sure you're ready for this change?"

Mrs. Reynolds met his gaze with unwavering determination and a hint of excitement. Her heart raced as she held onto her decision. "I'm sure, Jake. Let's do it."

Jake smiled, touched by her confidence. He raised the scissors high above her ponytail, allowing a suspenseful pause to build in the room. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed to glisten on the blade of the scissors.

Then, with a swift and deliberate motion, he brought the scissors down. 

*SCRUNCH SCRUNCH SCRUNCH*

The room filled with the dramatic sound of hair being severed, and Mrs. Reynolds could hardly believe her eyes as she held the severed locks in her hand, feeling a rush of emotions wash over her.

As she stared at the ponytail, a mix of nostalgia and exhilaration filled her heart. She had held onto those long locks for so long, and now they were gone, replaced by a sense of freedom she had longed for.

With the ponytail set aside, Jake began the intricate process of shaping her hair into a stylish, short cut. He carefully sectioned off her hair, starting at the back, and began trimming it with precision. He made each snip deliberate and purposeful, ensuring that the transformation was meticulous.

The room was filled with the soothing sounds of scissors snipping and the gentle swish of hair falling to the floor. Jake's fingers moved with expertise, and he used a comb to guide the strands into place as he cut, creating a gradual transition from long to short.

Mrs. Reynolds watched in awe as her reflection slowly transformed in the mirror. Her hair was becoming lighter with every snip, and she could feel the weight of the old style being lifted away. The process was like watching an artist at work, sculpting a masterpiece from her hair.

With the haircut nearing completion, Jake took a moment to refine the details. He trimmed the ends, adding texture and layers to create depth in her new style. The final touches involved perfecting the symmetry and ensuring that every strand was in place.

When Jake finally put down the scissors and stepped back, Mrs. Reynolds gazed at her reflection with a mixture of awe and satisfaction. Her new long bob was a perfect balance between sophistication and elegance, and it highlighted her features beautifully.

"Jake, you've created a masterpiece," she whispered, her eyes shining with gratitude.

Jake smiled, touched by her words. "I'm thrilled you like it, Mrs. Reynolds. You look stunning."

In that moment, the vintage apartment building felt like a place where transformations were not just physical but emotional as well. The bond between Jake and Mrs. Reynolds had deepened through this shared experience, leaving them both with a sense of renewal and connection that transcended a simple haircut.

Their bond grew even stronger after that day, not just as tenant and landlady but as friends who had shared an intimate and memorable experience. The haircut had brought them closer, and the vintage apartment building felt like an even warmer and more inviting place, thanks to their new connection.

Never say never!

Erin's return to her hometown after three years away filled her with a mix of nostalgia and curiosity. As she strolled down the familiar streets, she couldn't help but notice how much had changed. Memories flooded back to her, especially the ones associated with Sally's Salon, the place where she'd always gotten her haircuts and indulged in her hair fetish.

The last time Erin had been there, she'd opted for a stylish bob, but since then, she'd allowed her brunette locks to grow down to her waist, an embodiment of her adventurous spirit. She had never imagined that her beloved salon might have undergone a transformation of its own.

Her curiosity piqued, Erin approached the salon's location, only to find that it had been replaced by a barbershop. She stood there for a moment, reading the sign with a puzzled expression, when a man smoking a cigarette outside the shop noticed her.

He approached Erin with a friendly smile and asked, "Are you looking for Sally's Salon?" He went on to explain how he had bought the shop earlier that year and turned it into a men's barbershop. With no clients at the moment, he extended an invitation to Erin, offering her a haircut if she was interested.

Erin hesitated for a brief moment, but the idea of getting her hair trimmed in a men's barbershop, with all its intriguing possibilities, appealed to her inner hair fetishist. She made up her mind and decided to embrace the adventure, stepping inside the transformed salon.

Once inside, Erin's long, waist-length hair caught the barber's attention. He greeted her and mentioned, "I specialize in men's haircuts, but I can certainly give you a simple trim if that's what you prefer."

"No. Not a trim. Give me a men's haircut instead.", said Erin toying with her hair for the last time in a while. The barber whipped the cape and draped it around her as Erin sunk into the much larger men's barbershop chair. The barber began by gathering Erin's waist-length brunette hair into a tight ponytail, securing it with an elastic band. Erin could feel the weight of her locks in her hands as the barber prepared to sever them from her head. With a swift and confident motion, he chopped off the ponytail, leaving Erin with a bob that only reached her nape.

Next, the barber meticulously sectioned Erin's hair, creating distinct parts. He reached for his clippers, attaching a guard to ensure an even cut. The clippers buzzed to life, and he began the transformation. Erin watched in the mirror as the clippers glided smoothly over her head, starting with the sides and back.

The sensation of the clippers moving against her scalp sent shivers of excitement down Erin's spine. The guard ensured that the sides and back of her head were trimmed down to a uniform length, creating a stark contrast with the longer hair on top.

With the sides and back neatly buzzed, the barber shifted his focus to the top of Erin's head. He picked up a pair of scissors and began to trim the remaining hair, creating a slightly longer layer to give her pixie cut some texture and style.

As the haircut took shape, the barber then used texturizing scissors to create a messy fringe. He carefully snipped and blended, ensuring that Erin's new hairstyle would have a playful, tousled look.

Once satisfied with the result, the barber removed the cape from around Erin's shoulders. She reached into her purse, took out cash, and handed it to him as payment. Erin was delighted with the transformation and wanted to show her appreciation, so she included a generous tip.

The barber accepted the payment with a grateful nod and a warm smile. "Hope to see you soon," he said as he tucked the tip away.

Erin, her hair now a stylish and edgy messy pixie, couldn't help but grin. "I'm only in town for a few weeks," she replied, "but who knows?" She locked eyes with the barber in the mirror and added playfully, "Never say never."

***

On her last day in town, Erin had her bags packed and some time to spare before her flight. As she roamed the streets, savoring the nostalgia of her hometown, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. She had explored all her familiar haunts but hadn't revisited the barbershop that had given her such a thrilling experience just a few weeks ago.

Curiosity tugged at her, and she couldn't resist the temptation any longer. Erin found herself standing outside the barbershop once again. Memories of her previous visits filled her mind, and without much thought, she pushed open the door and walked in.

Inside, a man was already in the barber's chair, and another patiently waited. Erin took a seat on the well-worn waiting bench, her heart beating a little faster with each passing moment. The barber, recognizing her from her previous visits, smiled at her through the mirror.

Erin patiently waited her turn, watching as the men before her received their short, efficient haircuts. The sound of clippers and the sight of freshly shorn heads brought back the excitement of her previous visits.

Finally, the last customer hopped out of the chair, and the barber signaled for Erin to take her place. She hesitated for only a moment before obliging, settling into the comfortable embrace of the leather barber's chair. The barber deftly draped her with a black cape, his hands brushing against her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

With a calm and soothing voice, he asked, "So, Erin, what would you like to do on your last day in town?"

Erin's heart pounded in her chest as she met the barber's gaze in the mirror. She took a deep breath and replied, "I want a buzzcut."

A hint of surprise flashed across the barber's face, but he quickly nodded, accepting her request. He attached a number 2 guard to his clippers and, without hesitation, ran them straight through the center of her long brunette locks. Erin watched as the clumps of hair fell to the cape-covered floor, feeling a strange mix of exhilaration and trepidation.

The barber continued, skillfully navigating around Erin's head, leaving a bald strip in the wake of the clippers. The eyes of the other customers were now firmly fixed on Erin, their curiosity evident.

Soon, with smooth strokes, he buzzed the top, sides, and back of Erin's head, leaving her with a uniform and short buzzcut. Erin couldn't help but smile as she felt the cool air against her newly exposed scalp.

However, Erin wasn't entirely satisfied. She turned to the barber and said, "I want it even shorter. Use the smallest guard you have."

The barber nodded, removed the number 2 guard, and replaced it with a tiny 0.5 guard. Erin's heart raced as she watched him approach with the clippers once more. He started at the center of her head, expertly shearing the already short hair even closer to her scalp. The vibrations of the clippers sent tingles through her body as the barber carefully shaped her buzzcut.

He then took off the guard altogether and carefully shaved her sideburns and shaped the nape of her neck, creating sharp, clean lines. Erin could hardly believe how exhilarating the experience was, and her reflection in the mirror showed a mix of excitement and contentment.

Finally, the barber reached for a can of shaving cream and a straight-edged razor. He applied a layer of cream to Erin's sideburns and nape, taking his time to ensure the closest possible shave. Erin felt the cool cream on her skin as the barber gently glided the razor, leaving her sideburns and nape perfectly smooth.

With the shaving complete, the barber removed the cape, revealing Erin's transformed appearance. She reached into her purse and pulled out cash, along with a hefty tip. With a grin, she handed it to the barber, who accepted it with a nod of gratitude.

As she got up from the chair, the barber looked at her and asked, "Will I ever see you again, Erin?"

Erin couldn't help but smile mischievously as she replied, "Never say never." 

Academic Allure

In a bustling Texan college town, a young Japanese woman named Yuki had embarked on a journey far from home to pursue her PhD. Amidst the academic whirlwind, she found herself working as a teaching assistant under her professor, Dr. Anderson. Yuki was diligent in her duties, but her attention was soon diverted by someone unexpected: one of her own students.

This student, David, was a striking figure with a muscular build and a high bald fade buzz cut. His presence in the classroom commanded attention, and Yuki couldn't help but notice him. However, the professional setting of their academic environment limited her ability to initiate conversation beyond the realm of coursework.

One fateful day, David's friend, Mark, walked into the classroom with a new look—a one-length buzz cut that suited him remarkably well. David couldn't help but boast that he had given Mark the haircut in his makeshift salon in his dorm room, where he offered affordable haircuts to fellow students. The classroom buzzed with compliments, and girls couldn't resist running their hands over Mark's freshly shorn hair.

As Yuki observed this transformation, she couldn't help but let her imagination wander. She began to wonder what it would be like to touch David's hair or, even more daringly, to have him give her a haircut. Her long, silky, straight hair was her pride and joy, but the desire for something new gnawed at her.

Over the course of a week, the idea of getting a haircut from David kept creeping back into Yuki's thoughts. She would quickly dismiss it, but the allure was undeniable. Her fascination was so overpowering that one day, when she found David studying alone in the library, she mustered the courage to strike up a conversation about his studies and assignments.

Noticing that his hair was even shorter and more precisely cut, Yuki complimented David on his haircut. He revealed that he had given himself the haircut, sparking the perfect opportunity for Yuki to express her frustration with the Texas heat and work stress, making it difficult to maintain her long hair. She hoped he might offer to help her out.

To her surprise, David admired her hair and suggested she visit a salon off-campus for a trim. Yuki hesitated momentarily, saying she preferred not to go outside or spend too much money on a haircut. It was a white lie she couldn't help but tell because, at that moment, all she truly wanted was for David to cut her hair.

The awkward silence weighed on her, and in a sudden burst of impulsiveness, she asked him to cut her hair. David was taken aback, his shyness evident, but he couldn't resist Yuki's request. He agreed, albeit reluctantly, and invited her to his dorm room that evening.

As Yuki entered David's room, she couldn't help but notice his last-minute cleaning efforts to make the space feel more welcoming. He had set up a stool in the center of the room, but unfortunately, there was only a small handheld shaving mirror available. He draped a cape around her, and his hands settled on her shoulders, instructing her to relax.

David admitted he had been watching haircut videos of women earlier that day, reassuring Yuki that she was in capable hands.

First, he gently sectioned Yuki's hair, parting it into segments. The buzz of the clippers filled the room. Yuki was startled buly the sound of it and she clenched her teeth and clutched her knees with her hands in anticipation as he began to carefully shave the undercut. Starting at the nape, he worked his way up, ensuring the transition was seamless. Yuki could feel the vibration of the clippers against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

Next, David combed all her hair out to her sides and the back.focused on the clipper cut bob. With his left hand he held Yuki's head and tilted it down till her chin touched her breast. He flipped the clippers his hand makinf the blades face down a started shaping her hair. His first stroke slicing her hair above her nape revealed her undercut ever so slightly. Moved to the right creating an angle as she shaped her bob just below her chin. 

Half of Yuki's head had a angled a line bon while half of her had still sported her long locks. Moving back to his starting point he his clippers started to slice through her hair completing her bob as her hair her hair fell on her shoulders, her lap, her feet and the floor behind her. 

Finally, he brought out a straight razor to shave her nape. The warm lather applied to her nape felt soothing, and the razor glided smoothly, leaving her skin soft and bare. Touching the freshly shaved nape and the subtle undercut, Yuki couldn't help but wonder if this was how it felt to touch David's hair.

As the haircut neared its completion, Yuki couldn't help but admire the transformation in the small handheld mirror. Her hair had been radically changed, and a pile of her once-loved locks lay scattered on the floor.

David suggested that she could call him anytime she wanted a trim or a touch-up on the undercut. With a suggestive smile, Yuki responded, "That might happen sooner than you think." David, still a bit shy, refused to accept any payment and jokingly suggested she could take care of his grades for him.

As she left his dorm room, Yuki couldn't help but run her fingers over her newly shaved nape and the subtle undercut. Her crush had become not only her secret stylist but also the keeper of a thrilling secret they now shared.