Not a Confession, but a Declaration - Chapter 79

Abel ran a hand through his newly lightened hair.

Since cutting off strands of it and sending them as gifts to the rulers of various nations during the first prayer assembly, he had never chopped it this short. At most, he had only trimmed it from time to time.

There was no telling when he might need to use his hair that way again. Besides, among the clergy were more than a few zealots who insisted that no part of Abel’s body, blessed by the Father Himself, should ever be treated lightly.

Those who knew Abel would probably find his shortened hair rather strange. Abel himself, however, had worn it this short for about half a year before returning to the past, so he was already used to it.

In fact, after returning, he had found his grown-out hair more of a nuisance than anything else.

Long hair simply demanded too much care and attention.

The priests around him were the ones responsible for maintaining it, not Abel himself. Even so, sitting still while they fussed over his hair had always been boring.

So he liked the feeling of its newfound lightness.

That said, if someone asked whether he was completely satisfied, the answer would be no.

‘Felix used to cut it for me.’

After his identity had been exposed because of his long white hair, Felix had always trimmed it before it grew past Abel’s jaw.

To be honest, the priest who specialized in barbering had done a much cleaner job.

Felix possessed no remarkable skill. All he really did was even out the length. He never had proper tools, either, so he usually worked with a dagger or an ordinary pair of scissors meant for some entirely different purpose.

What he liked, though, was the way Felix would spend all that time touching his hair, his full attention fixed on him.

Back then, he hadn’t understood exactly what that feeling had been. Even so…

‘At some point, I started being the one to tell him it was time for another haircut.’

Whenever Abel grabbed a handful of his hair, tugged it straight, and called Felix over with a dagger already in hand, Felix would grumble about why his hair grew so absurdly fast. Yet once he actually began, he always did his best to make it look as neat as he possibly could.

Abel, for his part, would sit perfectly still, scarcely even daring to breathe, so as not to disturb Felix while he concentrated.

‘Maybe I was embarrassed back then.’

He had not yet recognized that what he felt for Felix was love.

His body, however, had been more honest than his mind.

He could remember Felix’s fingers smoothing through his hair, and the way Felix would glance at him whenever he made a mistake, trying to gauge his reaction. Yet he could not remember what he himself had felt at the time.

If it had been Abel, he would not have cared whether someone he disliked ended up with bald patches or unevenly cut hair.

‘Felix is kind by nature. And far too conscious of what other people think.’

Just look at him now.

After hearing the entire explanation, Felix stood there, his expression rigid, staring at Abel’s newly shortened hair.

Meeting that unwavering gaze, Abel made a suggestion.

“Do you want to touch it?”

If he felt like trimming it a little more, that would be fine too.

Felix, however, showed no sign of intending to do either.

“Why would I touch your hair, Lord Abel?”

There had been a time when Felix trimming Abel’s hair had simply been the natural thing to do.

After spending so long looking after an Abel who could scarcely manage anything on his own, Felix had never once suggested that Abel cut it himself.

Even when Felix complained about how quickly his hair grew and Abel casually offered to cut it on his own, Felix had firmly stopped him.

‘If your hair ends up looking like a disaster, that’ll only attract more attention.’

They had not always been able to find hair dye, so Felix often had to wear a hat. Abel had thought it would have been fine to simply cut it anyway.

‘If you accidentally slice off an ear, you’ll be living with one ear for the rest of your life. You no longer have divine power, and I can’t reattach it.’

Remembering the crooked smile Felix had worn when he said those words, Abel looked at the face now studying him with unmistakable seriousness.

“You kept staring.”

He brushed his fingers through his shortened hair once more.

“Does it not suit me?”

Quite apart from the fact that Abel had preferred Felix’s hands, this haircut was, as he had already admitted, the neater and more polished of the two.

Unlike the first time, when the priest’s hands had trembled at the thought of having to fix the hair Abel had hacked off himself, he had proven perfectly competent once he actually started cutting.

So there should have been nothing strange about it.

Felix, however, did not seem interested in discussing Abel’s hairstyle.

If anything, he looked as though he was trying to determine whether Abel had lost his mind.