Work Text:
Iceland watched in the mirror as Finland draped a towel over her shoulders. As her too long hair was positioned over its scratchy fabric, she bit the inside of her lip and twisted her skirt with one hand.
Her eyes had drifted across the glass to Norway, leaning against the wall, there for moral support or something, like it wasn’t her making her do this. When Denmark joked about her never cutting her hair, Norway got all touchy telling her she had split ends. She refused her demand for her to go to the hairdresser, eventually Finland pulled her away and offered to cut it herself, she agreed, it was hard to say no to her.
Norway’s eyes softened, realizing she’d been staring, she looked back at her own reflection, seeing her furrowed brows. It was stupid being so nervous over a haircut, it was only one bad experience.
“Where do you want me to cut it?” Finland gently asked after she finished adjusting the locks.
Iceland raised the hand playing with her skirt’s hem, pointing just beneath her chin.
Finland looked surprised. “Are you sure you want it that short?”
Iceland stopped herself from getting upset, she was only trying to help. It was fair, she hadn’t wanted a haircut at all, asking for so much off warranted question. “I’ve thought it through.” She assured. She had, her hair tangled too easily being long.
Finland nodded, starting by cutting off the bulk slightly below where she’d wanted. Watching the lightly curled silver strands falling to the floor made her minutely panic, but when her eyes met Norway’s again, a calm washed over her, it always did, like magic.
It actually felt really nice when Finland combed through her hair, a tingly feeling making its way from her nape down her spine melting her nerves away. The small clicks of the scissors snipping away the excess and evening the ends was pleasant too.
“Is this alright?” Finland asked, running fingers through the strands.
“Can you add bangs.”
“I could, you’d have to keep them up though.”
“That’s fine. I don’t mind if you do it.”
Finland smiled. “What do you want them to look like.”
“Yours.”
Her smile widened, and she complied, picking up the scissors again.
Her hair that looked like her older sist- Norway’s, now matched Finland’s, it looked nice, she felt lighter too.
“You look so cute, it’s sure to impress whoever you like.” Finland said, playing with her hair again. “Seychelles? She guessed. “Liechtenstein?”
“I already told you, I’m not—”
“Hong Kong?”
Iceland blushed and stood. “I already told you, I’m not into romance like you guys!”
“I’d let you date Hong Kong.” Norway spoke.
“I don’t need your permission, you’re not my mom!”
“So, you admit that I’m your big sister, and that you like her?”
“No! You’re being annoying like Denmark.” She complained, leaving and shutting the door behind her, realizing she should thank Finland, she cracked the door open a bit.
“Thank you.”