I hurried out of a department store and twisted my head side to side in the hopes of spotting where Cynthia sat. The text received just moments ago had an urgent tone, and with my girlfriend, it was typical that if I didn't tend to her immediately, the chance of a quiet night would diminish to none.

Rounding the corner, Cynthia's headless body was seated on a bench. I sighed in relief continued my fast-walk up to her. Another text rang through.

'Can you please put on my new shoes? You'll need to take me to return the other pair. I don't like them. Also, I think my other hands are done in the salon. Make sure I don't have to pee too! Thank you baby. 😙'

A groan unintentionally escaped my mouth. Cynthia was never as needy as she was without a head. It was suggested multiple times in the past that she could get her hair done like any normal person, but she refused, reminding me that I was fully capable of taking care of her in such a vulnerable state. There was no winning that fight.

I squated down, taking one of her feet in my hand. As the Converse was slipped on, I couldn't help but to think in what ways I could be as helpless and demanding as she. Cutting myself in half? "Accidentally" leaving my arms at the gym? Who could say.