Noah looked at her and tried to imagine her with 'very' short hair, as she put it. He'd grown quite used to seeing her long hair and enjoyed tucking it behind her ear when he could. The way she described the potentially new cut in the future was ridding him of the ability until her hair grew out. He would miss it if she did cut it, despite her hair growing fast. He made a face to show his disagreement with a bob or pixie cut, slightly frowning with emotive brows. “I dunno...” he said, trailing in an answer to her question.

He was biased to enjoy her natural looks without makeup or dyed or cut hair. It was what he saw the first time he laid eyes on her. Though her hair was much shorter then than it was now, he grew attached to her tresses as they lengthened with time. It was like watching her grow into her new setting in Syliras, each inch a mile walked in the city's streets. Noah only cut his own hair because it got crazily big when it was allowed to grow out. He recalled having straight hair, having it blond and straight over his head. As he began to grow up though, the hair changed its texture and changed its color. Now it was dark and curly, sometimes unkempt, sometimes not. It was very clear when Noah was having a bad hair day.

Noah sputtered a laugh at her final joking question. “If,” he emphasized. “If you do that, I won't kiss you until it grows back. You'd wither away and die before my hair grew back.” He smiled, feeling as if it was trump enough for her. He remembered her dramatics a few days ago, how she feigned dying because she went more than a few chimes without getting the kiss she wanted.

“If you're not too tired,” he started after a moment, “do you want to walk with me late at night. I want to show you something.”