"What needs to happen is to c-snip off a big piece now. Take the leap of faith. And I just-."
Steadying of Peter’s shoulders, a steady hand, and off went the part of hair that hung down Peter’s face-
Adam stared at the hair, lying there on the ground.
He was going to be quiet, lest it moved. Good Christ.
A clean, sharp and sudden ‘snip’, and Peter was jerking backwards — but too little too late. Silence saturated the room.
Not like it hadn’t happened before with telekinesis and a wall, but the empath was left blinking dumbly at the fallen chunk of hair with no words whatsoever.
First time it’d ever happened for no reason and with a pair of scissors.
"——is this about your social life, Peter? Do you just fear change? Does your hair hold its own brand of super power?"
"We know someone who can manipulate time itself. You are in denial but luckily for you, I’m so quick, you won’t even notice until it’s too l…it’s done."
Adam stepped closer. He was planning on cutting that hair right now, Peter just didn’t know it yet. He’d have to be quick.
"I’m not in denial.”
A movement like Peter was making to step away. Not like he was afraid. Wary, maybe, but not afraid. Not at all.
"I have time to cut your hair."
"—Yeah, but I don’t think it works out if one of us has time and the other doesn’t."
Michael blinks, slow in his thoughtful conjecture; such hospitality uncommon to him in the millennia it had been since he’d felt it firsthand from humanity. Although, he does consider this a modern gift — propelled by God albeit mysteriously — of particular interest. And despite knowing it, the Archangel asks anyways.
"Thank you. What is your name?"
"It was the least I could do."
The behaviour is strange — naturally, he finds himself drawn to it, hoping to understand, but he restrains himself just a while longer, tilting his head fractionally to the side. Peter tucks a stray hair behind his ear. The crooked half-smile he gives is only friendly.