"I do just fine." He says a little defensively. Edgard sighs, looks at Benedict, who has invited him out and is kind enough to forgive him. He sighs again and relents. He rolls his eyes.
"Alright, you can comb it." He says nearly inaudibly.
"You can borrow some of my clothes, if you want to look nice," he adds, "...you'll have to take a bath first, but I think we're about the same size."
Unearthing a wooden chest from beneath his bed, he sorts through it until he finds his comb, then comes to sit on Edgard's bed behind him. This will take a while.
Bene shakes his head to himself, this being the most obvious thing in the world.
"Your hair's like... well it's part of you. And it deserves to be treated well. At least treat it as well as you would a pet. You wouldn't let a dog get this ratty, would you?"
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"My hair?" He repeats faintly. "A-are you saying something is wrong with it?"
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"It's dirty," he points out, "you'll never pick up anyone that way. Or. ...you might, but they won't be the kind of people you want."
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"I do just fine." He says a little defensively. Edgard sighs, looks at Benedict, who has invited him out and is kind enough to forgive him. He sighs again and relents. He rolls his eyes.
"Alright, you can comb it." He says nearly inaudibly.
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"You can borrow some of my clothes, if you want to look nice," he adds, "...you'll have to take a bath first, but I think we're about the same size."
Unearthing a wooden chest from beneath his bed, he sorts through it until he finds his comb, then comes to sit on Edgard's bed behind him. This will take a while.
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His eyes roll to the top of his head to try to see Benedict's progress. "Ow! That hurts! I'd like to have hair left when you're through, thanks."
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He won't push it, though-- it's Edgard's loss.
Combing through as carefully as he can, he scoffs.
"Don't be a baby. I'm being as gentle as I can, all things considered."
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"I'm not being a baby! It hurts! Do you do this to yourself every day? Is this why it takes you so long? What are you doing? I can't see it!"
Edgard takes a deep breath. He is staying very still despite the string of complaints.
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...but that would take too long, to do properly."
He's being quite careful about not ripping the comb through knots, because tearing it would remove any chance of salvaging what's there.
"You could have lovely hair, if you'd only care for it."
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Each word is punctuated with a grimace as Benedict tears through it.
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"If you're not going to care for it, why keep it long?"
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He flinches a little in response to the battle with the wretched knot.
"Plus cutting it is also work."
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Bene shakes his head to himself, this being the most obvious thing in the world.
"Your hair's like... well it's part of you. And it deserves to be treated well. At least treat it as well as you would a pet. You wouldn't let a dog get this ratty, would you?"
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He huffs. "I am not mean to my hair, I just let it be natural."
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"No." He says quietly.
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Time to just. ...sit with that.