Me-Before-You-by-Jojo-Moyes

I had been tidying the living room. I looked up from plumping the sofa
cushions. ‘What?’
‘My hair. I’m only half done. I look like one of those Victorian orphans. Or
some Hoxton eejit.’ He turned his head so that I could better see my handiwork.
‘Unless this is one of your alternative style statements.’
‘You want me to keep cutting?’
‘Well, it seemed to keep you happy. And it would be nice not to look like I
belong in an asylum.’
I fetched a towel and scissors in silence.
‘Nathan is definitely happier now I apparently look like a bloke,’ he said.
‘Although he did point out that, having restored my face to its former state, I will
now need shaving every day.’
‘Oh,’ I said.
‘You don’t mind, do you? Weekends I’ll just have to put up with designer
stubble.’
I couldn’t talk to him. I found it difficult even to meet his eye. It was like
finding out your boyfriend had been unfaithful. I felt, weirdly, as if he had
betrayed me.
‘Clark?’
‘Hmm?’
‘You’re having another unnervingly quiet day. What happened to “chatty to
the point of vaguely irritating?”’
‘Sorry,’ I said.
‘Running Man again? What’s he done now? He hasn’t gone and run off, has
he?’
‘No.’ I took a soft slice of Will’s hair between my index and middle fingers
and lifted the blades of the scissors to trim what lay exposed above them. They
stilled in my hand. How would they do it? Would they give him an injection?
Was it medicine? Or did they just leave you in a room with a load of razors?
‘You look tired. I wasn’t going to say anything when you came in, but – hell –
you look terrible.’
‘Oh.’
How did they assist someone who couldn’t move their own limbs? I found
myself gazing down at his wrists, which were always covered by long sleeves. I