“Not too short,” he said cautiously.
“Fine.” Nina shrugged. “Short, long…with a face like yours, you could get away with almost anything.”
“That’s the problem—my face,” he growled. “Don’t want people looking at me.”
“Because…?” Nina looked at him uncertainly. “Does it have to do with your RTS?”
“You’re Goddess-damned right it does. It’s not just touch that sets it off. I feel everything anyone feels when they look at me too. Touching just makes it worse.”
“But you’re so…I mean, your bone structure is perfect. And with those eyes…” Nina shook her head. “What I’m trying to say is, when people look at you, how could they be thinking about anything except how, uh…”
“How much they’d like to fuck me?” he asked bluntly.
“I was going to say how gorgeous you are,” Nina said softly and began snipping. “But yeah, I guess so.”
“I told you—positive emotions are as invasive as negative ones. Tell me something, how did you feel when that fat tub of guts you were treating right before I grabbed you asked you for sexual favors? Did you like it?”
“Who, Mr. Witherspoon?” Nina asked, frowning. “How do you know about him?”
“Dream-sharing,” he said shortly. “So did you like it when he propositioned you?”
“God, no! He’s disgusting. And the way he looks at me…I can almost feel his eyes crawling all over my skin. Ugh.”
“What if you could really feel them?” Reddix asked softly as she continued to cut. “What if you felt his lust for you like cold slime all over your body every time he looked at you? Or what if another female was jealous of how beautiful you are? What if you had to feel her jealousy like a thousand stinging insects on every inch of your skin? Would you like that?”
“No. No that would be…horrible,” Nina whispered, the scissors paused in mid-snip. “You told me a little about RTS that first night on the ship, but you never said—”
“The less said about it the better,” Reddix said shortly. “I have it, I deal with it. Just don’t make my hair too short.”
“Okay,” she said quietly. She went on snipping, glad to find that her hands still remembered their old skill, but inside she was hurting for him. Up until now she’d had the impression he couldn’t feel anything from other people unless they were touching him—well, other than the aliens they found themselves currently with, but they used emotions to communicate.
Nina had never dreamed the RTS was so bad—so debilitating. No wonder Reddix was gruff and harsh sometimes. He’d probably been in severe pain for the past ten years, ever since his disease manifested itself. She couldn’t imagine having to feel every emotion everyone felt about her or around her all the time. It would be horrible…unbearable.
Stop getting distracted and do your job, she warned herself as she snipped. Concentrate on doing it right. Make sure you don’t take too much off.
Nina took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind. She had been young when her mother taught her, but she had learned well. She had continued giving her father and friends haircuts even after her mother had died and the little beauty shop on Flora Avenue closed. Soon she was able to lose herself in her work and push the troubling thoughts aside.
Reddix’s hair was thick with a slight wave to it, but it wasn’t hard to cut. It seemed to fall naturally into a pattern, and she found herself following it, marveling all over again as she did at the deep blue—almost black color of it. His beard, she noted, was almost completely black, darker even than the hair on his head.
At last, she stood back and admired her work. His hair was still a bit long, but it was much less shaggy. Really, except for the beard he looked almost presentable.
“Finished?” Reddix asked.
“With your hair anyway. Now it’s time for a shave.” Nina took the towel off his shoulders and shook it into the fireplace, getting rid of the clippings. Then she put it back on him and picked up the clippers. “I think we’d better use these to start with and finish up with the razor. That’s a pretty thick beard.”
“I can do it myself if you want me to,” he offered, sitting up a little straighter.
Nina shook her head. “I don’t mind. And besides, there aren’t any mirrors here for you to look at.”
“All right.” He relaxed in the chair again. “I’m in your hands.”
“I’ll do my best. You already look less like a bear.” She smiled at him.