Tug, snikt. Tug, snikt. Tug, snikt. Tug, snikt.

The rhythmic pulling of his hair was almost enough to lull him to sleep. Olivette's deft hands cut and styled it into order, into something... Princely.

Like everything else she did, it was done efficiently and perfectly; although --like all women-- she had a look, that she had given him when he instructed her to complete a hairdresser's course. Olivette's look was reserved for those special occasions when she felt a task was egregiously beneath her, but he had taken the time to explain the necessity.

Appearances were important.

Asa heard boot heels click on the Travertine, and Olivette's hands paused so that Ishani could kiss him before leaving for the night. The fact that she liked the 'new look' almost made the nightly monotony bearable.

The pulling and clicking of scissors resumed, and Asa's thoughts turned to all the other things that had changed. Some, expected, some, unexpected.

At least it gave him an excuse to start his nights watching SportCenter.