Missing [ST]

One Hundred

Fifteenth of August:

The handle-bar moustache with delicate twirls at the corners, and the partnering clump of black hairs under Steven's chin, were about to accept their fate with a fresh razor.

He had grown out his facial hair over the summer tour, and although Leah had liked it when he returned home, complimented how it suited him, it was now treated like the plague and any kisses he tried were avoided because he was too bristly.

Steven wasn't in his best interests to argue since Leah was nine months pregnant with their baby, now three days past her due date, and the misery and constant discomfort from the summer heat had reached the point where any of his affection was completely useless.

So, the least he could do for her was shave his face, even if being watched was a bit intimidating.

"Do you want me to shave my head too?"

Sarcasm. It was his natural defence mechanism in an uncomfortable situation.

"What? What kind of question is that?" Leah tutted at his stupidity, knocking the back of her head against the bathroom wall. "Just stop making stupid jokes for thirty seconds, please."

Steven stopped applying shaving cream.

"I was being serious."

He wasn't, but his foam goatee and sunken expression implied otherwise.

"What?" Leah scrunched up her face, but it was in frustration rather than confusion. "Oh, just fuck off with your little...your little...rat's tail."

The mocking gesture towards his hair style didn't insult him, and as for the skinny rat's tail, Steven had tightly tied a few of the ends of his hair so they touched the top of his spine. It gave the appearance he had cut his hair, poofing up around his ears, barely falling past his chin, but he would never shave his head unless he really had to.

Leah had recently had a haircut too, the long length given a reset just past her shoulders. She had a rash desire to go blonde, but Steven managed to convince her out of it until she was feeling sane again, because it probably would have been his fault if she didn't like it.

Her sour moods were something he did his best to sweeten, especially since the due date had passed, but he often crossed the pity line, and he was better being useful around the house and taking Liv places, so he wasn't kicked out the house.

"Are you going to murder me?" Steven was unnerved by the deep frown and folded arms watching his every move.

"What?" It was the same tone as before, but the argumentative nature resolved itself. "No, don't be ridiculous."

"Okay," he mumbled, picking up the razor. "Just checking."

Steven started his task of shaving, but he couldn't help but wonder why his heavily pregnant girlfriend was up here when Liv was on her own downstairs. The four-year-old could be trusted for five, ten minutes, but usually one of them was in the same proximity. And the concerns for the circumstances only grew, because the more Steven tried focusing on moving a cheek muscle, pulling at his face to get the optimal angle to drag the blade across his skin, the more he noticed Leah's visible attempts to hide pain.

She looked away when she caught him staring, closed her eyes briefly, and let out a controlled, but much heavier stream of air. Maybe that was why she was watching him, because she wanted him to help, but wouldn't say.

"I know it's a stupid question, but is everything okay?" Steven hated the silence between them, and hadn't been able to put the right step forward since he had returned home from tour. "You just seem like you really want to kill me today."