Caveman

                                    

                                          
POV: You nagging Darryl to cut his hair.
 He had been growing it out for months, and it was getting longer and shaggier by the day. "Daryl, come on," she said, tugging at his hair. "It's getting ridiculous. Let me cut it for you."
Daryl scowled at her, pulling away. "I don't need a haircut," he said. "I like it like this."
Y/N rolled her eyes. "You're starting to look like a caveman," she said. "Just let me trim it a little."
Daryl shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes. "No way," he said. "I don't want you messing with it."
Y/N sighed, exasperated. "Fine," she said. "But don't come crying to me when you can't see where you're going."
Daryl grunted, but he didn't say anything else. Y/N knew she wasn't going to win this argument, at least not today.
But she didn't give up. Every day, she would nag him a little bit more, reminding him how much better he would look with a shorter haircut. She would promise she wouldn't mess up his hair. 
Finally, after weeks of nagging, Daryl gave in. "Fine," he said, his voice resigned. "You win. But if you mess it up, I'm shaving it all off."
Y/N grinned, triumphant. "Don't worry," she said. "I'm a professional."
She led him over to a chair. Then she got to work, snipping away at his hair with a pair of scissors. Daryl sat there stoically, his eyes closed, as she worked her magic.
When she was done, she spun him around so he could see himself in the broken mirror she held. Daryl's eyes widened in surprise.
"Wow," he said, running a hand through his shorter hair. "I look...different."
Y/N smiled at him, pleased with her work. "You look great," she said. "And now you can actually see where you're going."
Daryl chuckled, shaking his head. "Thanks," he said. "I guess you were right."
She grinned, feeling victorious. "I always am," she said. "Now let's go show off your new haircut to the rest of the group."