Snippet #1744525

Touma chuckled quietly, raising his hand to run it through his own waving golden hair. He could barely remember what it felt like not to have long, tawny ringlets. He was naturally dark-haired, of course, being Japanese, but that didn't matter. He hadn't ever liked his hair the way it was when he was born, and he had never intended to keep it that way. To say that he had intended to become a blonde heart-breaker, however, would be completely inaccurate. He had simply intended to some day dye it brown. He nodded to Naoki, smiling gently.

"I'm glad you think so," he murmured. "We'll figure out something to do when they wake up. You get that gunk washed out of your hair."

He watched Naoki leave, eyes smiling even if his face did not. He was in the habit of maintaining a calm appearance, any flicker of emotion kept small and discreet, secretive. That was his image, as Touma. Always level-headed, confident, (perhaps overly so), and a strong leader. He was a dramatic performer, of course, and not easily embarrassed. Not ever embarrassed. But he was not flamboyant, either. Perhaps that was why whenever he showed a true smile to the world, the fangirls started screaming...?

Touma sipped silently at his coffee, staring straight at the wall in front of him, until a soft footstep alerted him to the presence of another. He glanced around, smiling at the sight of the young woman... man... who approached him. Though he spent almost all his time with Hime, Touma still could not get used to how feminine Hime really was. People thought that Touma was feminine, but Hime simply took it to the next level. If you didn't know him, there was absolutely no way to tell that Hime was male. An image that he reinforced by his choice of image within the band. There were not many visual kei boys who would deign to wear a dress in a show, let alone choose to. And Hime pulled it off gloriously. Much of the time, new fans did not realize for months that Hime wasn't really a woman.

"Morning," Touma murmured, lips twitching in the faintest of smiles. Hime glanced at him; a disdainful and rather irritable look; but made no move to reply. He just kept walking, moving over to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of milk. "Oh, dear," Touma sighed. "Did we wake you up, Hime-chan?"

Hime raised one slim eyebrow coldly and sipped at the milk, refusing to speak.