Uptown Girl ● ● ● Claire & MohinderMature

Though the demon's gentle grip on her hand did not go unnoticed, they had not waited long until the whirlwind that was Rochelle claimed Mohinder for her own, at least for the time being. Claire was content to give him over for grooming; she had faith in the stylist's talent and innate eye for beauty. Claire herself had been coming to her for some time, after all--if she trusted her own appearance to the woman, she had no concerns about Mohinder's. 

Grinning discreetly as she watched Mohinder submit to Rochelle's greeting and forthright nature, Claire pulled over a nearby stool and perched herself atop it. She loved to watch Rochelle at work, and had a feeling her interactions with Mohinder would be something worth witnessing. Rochelle, however, seemed momentarily more focused on Mohinder's words than his hair, and she snuck a sidelong glance at Claire.

"Belonging, hm?" she said knowingly, flashing a smile to her long-time client and friend. The girl knew better than to judge Claire's proclivities, but that didn't mean she couldn't tease her for them. "In that case, you do need something special." With that, she was done talking, whole being intent on her charge. Cape draped around his shoulders, she stood behind him, examining his face and hair in the mirror. A few "hmmmms..." escaped her lips and she ran her fingers through his hair to get a feel for it before pulling out a comb and spritz bottle. Talented hands soon had his hair damp and tousled, and they reached for the buzzer.

"You're going to look even more handsome," she giggled, "if that's possible." She winked back at Claire before expertly cropping the sides and back of Mohinder's hair. Leaving her comfortable stool, Claire stood and peered over Rochelle's shoulder, alternating her gaze between Mohinder's face and his hair. Though the lovely curls fell to the ground, Rochelle left the top largely untouched, bringing out the scissors to give it a healthy trim. It didn't take long, and after running some gel  through the top to sweep his remaining curls back, Rochelle turned him around in the chair. "Your knight-in-shining-new-style," she chirped as she dramatically pulled the cape off. 

Claire's grin was appreciative, to say the least, and she slowly nodded her approval. "Nicely done, mon amie," she said, "very nicely done. Though the shabby chic was lovely, this is much more fitting." She stepped behind him and turned the chair back so they both faced the mirror, and rested both hands on his shoulders. "What do you think?"

The End

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