#dewdrop: im gonna cut this cucks fucking hair

[dewceit]

@vhulgar​

     HE HAS BEEN STANDING STILL FOR FAR TOO LONG with only his own reflection to entertain him. Eddie moves about him studiously. Measuring here. Pinning there. The occasional comment being made in lighthearted attempts at small talk— but he should know better than to expect a Ghoul to respond. As much as Dewdrop would love to say something aborrhent and watch this pride's eyes WIDEN- the fool isn't apart of the pact. He can't, won't comprehend infernal tongue.

Just as he can't comprehend the forked tail flicking impatiently behind Dew. If he could he would truly understand the extent of his client's impatience.

Alas, Eddie has not a cue beyond his cold gaze and the thick tension in the air.

The appointment continues to drag on and Eddie is babbling about— something (maybe he's singing. Dewdrop has long tuned out by now) when something catches the demon's eye. Fabric sheers. Left conveniently on a little tray just within arms reach (meant for Eddie, but Dewdrop is small enough that even while standing at full height on a stool he can snag the scissors easily).

Slowly, Dewdrop curls devilish little fingers around the blades. He is sure to move as quietly as possible as he repositions the scissors in his hand for a proper cutting grasp without arising suspicion. For a moment or two he waits, assuring himself that the tailor is none the wiser before he begins the true challenge. His movements are measured as he lowers his knuckles to Eddie's head, opening the blades and slipping a choice chunk of heavily styled hair between them—