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"You can't shave your head. You'll look mental." "I look worse than mental with this hair. I look evil." "There's no such thing as evil hair," Simon giggled. They were lying on the floor of the library between two rows of shelves. Baz on his back. Simon propped up one shoulder. "Look at me," Baz said, pushing his chin-length hair back from his forehead. "Every famous vampire has a widow's peak like this. I'm a cliché. It's like I went to the barber and asked for 'a Dracula.' " Simon was laughing so hard, he nearly fell forward onto Baz. Baz shoved him up with his free hand. "I mean, honestly," Baz said, still holding back his hair, trying to keep a straight face. "It's like an arrow to my face. This way to the vampire." Simon swatted Baz's hand away and kissed the point of his hairline as gently as he could. "I like your hair," Simon said against Baz's forehead. "Really, really."
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