Oneshot Per Day

🥐Brush my Hair, for the World Hates Us, and We Hate Us too, Brush my Hair🥐

Cabby stared blankly at the notes and various other papers scattered across her desk. A pen anxiously shakes back and forth in one hand and the other taping nervously on the desk. All her focus was on these notes. Not the ones for her files. But other ones. Ones that, right now, required her full undivided attention for whatever reason.

She jumped, startled, when a hand tapped her on the shoulder.

"Cabby?" Their soft voice spoke meekly.

Her only ally left in this hell that was a game: Yin-Yang. What did they need, and why were they so anxious?

"Oh, hello! Sorry, I must have been too caught up in my work. What's up?"

They shuffled unsteadily. Neither one seemed to want to look Cabby in the eye. A light blush on their cheeks insinuated they were embarrassed. It took a whole 6 seconds for them to finally get the courage and ask their question.

They pressed a hard wooden brush with soft bristles to Cabby. "Could you... brush our hair?" They asked quietly. So quiet, it was hard to tell whether it was Yin or Yang who was speaking.

"Oh, uhm, sure!" She responded, tossing the brush over and over in her hand. The smooth wood was relatively light in her hand, and the bristles were a bit ticklish when she ran her thumb over them again and again.

She wheeled back from her desk and motioned for Yin-Yang to grab a pillow and sit in front of her. They did just that. Their black and white hair was long. It reached almost their mid thigh. They had to look down just to try and keep it from touching the floor. It didn't work. And it was oh so smooth and soft. Like delicate little strands of valuable silk growing right out of their head.

When she ran the first stroke through their hair, they shuddered. Though, that was the extent of almost any reaction during their hair brushing session. Yin-Yangs hair was already free of knots, and Cabby wondered if they had brushed their hair before coming to her. Now, why would they do that? It was very interesting.

Truth be told, Yin-Yang loved having their hair brushed. It was relaxing, comforting even. They tried to do it themselves. They tried to brush away the bad feelings away. The anxieties, the sadness, the ever growing feelings of betrayal and loneliness. But they couldn't, and so soon their frustration planted itself like a cherry on top.

This wasn't a sweet cherry, though. It was a bitter one, a pathetic one. All their feelings were pathetic, but... God. The stinging feeling of the back of the brush hitting their head as tears of frustration stained their face. Why couldn't they do this? Why couldn't they make themselves better and fix themselves?

They couldn't do it themselves, and they had no one to do it for them! Candle left, and Painty left, and everyone left! They need to stop leaving. Why are they leaving!? Everyone.... everyone except Cabby. They still had Cabby. They weren't as close as say Candle, but she filled the void that Candle had left. They quite enjoyed that, having that hole in their heart filled. And, yes, it hurt when it was gauged out again, but in the meantime, they could play the fool.

For just a second, maybe. And it would be okay, because that was the only option they had. They had to make it okay. That was all they could do. All Yin-Yang had was Cabby... and all Cabby had was Yin-Yang. She couldn't leave, or she'd be by herself, too. So maybe they were both the fools. So maybe they could find comfort in each other.

With every stroke, Yin-Yang was beginning to feel relaxed. Their position slouched a bit, and ever so slightly, they leaned into Cabbys touch. It worked a lot better when someone else did the brushing. No one said anything. Cabby didn't ask why Yin-Yang wanted their hair brushed. She didn't stop brushing. She just sat there and did what she was asked to.

They cleanly didn't want to talk about it.

Cabby grew tired of the repetitive motions. A dull ache formed d in her wrist, so she moved on to something else: braiding. After tossing the brush to her paper-occupied desk, Cabby grabbed a fair chunk of Yin-Yangs hair and separated it into three more chunks. What followed next was just subconscious. Cabby needed not to think of what she was doing. She just did it.

Over and over and over again.

Soon, she had run out of room to braid, and Yin-Yang had taken that as their sign they needed to wrap their little sad session up.

"Thank you," they mumbled as she started to undo her mess of a hairstyle.

"It was nothing, really," she said with a kind smile.

"Its been really hard," they said. They could have been more specific, but they didn't really need to.

"Im sorry," Cabby said. "You don't deserve that," her hands clamped down not harshly but firmly on their shoulders in a grounding way. She was done removing her work.

"One more braid before we go?" Yin mumbled his question.

Cabby chuckled a bit. "Of course," she replied.

This last braid was a single one, and it was much more complex. Cabby did pay attention during this braid, her entire conscious set one this one task.

"We are glad you haven't left us yet," Yin said softly.

"We'll be sad when you do," Yang followed.

Cabby gasped an inaudible gasp. This wasn't something they should have to think about. Though a small frown was planted on her lips, Cabby replied with as much enthusiasm she could. "I don't plan on that being anytime soon! And when it does arrive, I'll be waiting for the day you return,"

Yin-Yang smiled, tears welled in their eyes. "Thank you," their voice shook and threatened to break.

Cabby hummed approvingly. "Your braid is done," she said after securing their braid with an elastic. "But if you need anything else," her offer hung in the air.

Yin-Yang just leaned back into her legs. "Just this," they said softly.

"Okay," Cabby said. Her notes could wait for another day. This was a good distraction for now.
_______

1066 words. Slay.

Fun fact: I wrote this on a bus whilst sitting between 2 other people.

5•10•23