Do you ever find yourself drawn to one certain aspect of people? I guess I might as well roll my eyes at all of you thinking dirty things right now. I know some people obsess over eyes, or look at people's hands. For me, it's hair. I think it must run in the family. I'm almost positive that Sora's attraction to his boyfriend Riku started when a certain four year olds silver hair glinted in the sun and three year old Sora reached out to grab a handful of it. I think Riku's focus is on Sora's eyes and he has a protective, possessive habit of touching his hips. But Sora is a hair person, always running his fingers through Riku's hair, purring happily when Riku does the same to him. And he always comments on people's hair and how messy mine is. Hypocrite. My mum was a hair person too. She always wanted a daughter, so she could braid her hair. Both me and Sora have put up with more hair pulling and combing than any boy usually does just to satisfy her obsession. Riku avoids mum as much as possible lest he be caught and find his hair tied up in pretty ribbons and plaited and twisted and pinned in extravagant up-dos. Anyway, enough about my family's insane hair obsessions. This is for me to confront my insane hair obsession.

I swear, if I like someone's hair, I want to touch it. It's like some weird OCD...except it's not some anxiety thing, just a disturbing obsession. I have to physically remove myself from the person and find something to occupy my mind otherwise I will stalk them and try to touch their hair. It's stupid and weird and totally embarrassing. The kids in my primary school thought I was strange. When I went to secondary school, I got teased and bullied because my hair fascination does not discriminate between genders. And when Sora and Riku got together, I was bullied even more. I tried to ignore it; I had three really close friends in Hayner, Pence and Olette. And Sora and Riku were always there for me. No one even dared make a snide comment when I was around Hayner or Riku. They played blitzball, were lithe and athletically muscular and had nasty tempers. One of the things that amused me most about Riku and Sora dating was how gentle the silver haired boy was with my twin. They were both so different, but they just fit together. By the time we graduated secondary school, I was beginning to think I'd never find something as special as those two had.

We all went to the same college. Riku took a creative writing course. He was already an awesome author, but thought that the extra time at college would help polish his talent and maybe help him understand more about the process of publishing. Sora had always wanted to be a chef; he adored baking sweet things, so it was no surprise when he took a culinary course. Hayner was doing something about physical education. I think it had something to do with becoming a coach or maybe a physiotherapist. He was loving it. Olette was taking a childcare course so that she could help her mother who's a childminder; their house is always full of happy kids. Pence, naturally, took a software development course and scared all of us when he told us how close he'd been to creating a virus which would have wiped the college computer's hard drive etc, etc. Me? Well. I'm slightly ashamed to say I took the health and beauty course the college was famous for.

The first year I had to learn all aspects including nails, waxing, massage and of course, hair. After that I could focus completely on one area to qualify in. Obviously, my focus was hair. The college had its own salon on the ground floor which students above their first year staffed, overlooked by qualified staff. Learning in the first year was slightly awkward. I was the only guy on the course and was presumed gay by all of the girls due to my choice in career. I'd never really thought about my sexuality, but that year had me leaning towards believing myself to be gay. We had to practice our skills on each other. It was uncomfortable for me to be waxed by the girls, not that the pain put me off, I kinda got used to it. It was more the feeling that they were judging my body. I was more comfortable with them using me as a nail model, so long as they removed their work before I left the class room. I do admit to letting them buff and shine my nails once in a while. But when it came to me waxing them, even bikini lines and other embarrassing areas, I did it with a detached professional air. I'd talk to them quite happily if they talked to me, but really I paid enough attention to get the task done well and that was it.

I loved every minute of my second year. All students were required to spend a certain number of hours working at the salon. Any time over that, they were paid. I had a simple Sunday job at my uncle's coffee shop working behind the counter and occasionally filling in as a waiter if needed. Most every day of the week, I would work at least three hours at the salon, more if I had the final periods of the college day free. I didn't resent the time spent working at all, though my friends often complained that they hardly saw me anymore. Working in the salon was my dreams come true; I had access to all kinds of fascinating and beautiful hair. And it wasn't weird for me to look and touch; it was such a novel experience for me. I was being paid to pamper all kinds of hair, to care for it and make it beautiful. I was rather surprised at how quickly word spread about the little gay blond college student who did wonders with hair. People started coming in and asking for me specifically!

I guess it's because I took more care in my work than the others, of course this was more for my benefit than the customers', but they enjoyed the attention too. I loved to wash and condition the customers' hair, being gentle as I felt the texture – let me know if I start to sound creepy – I took such delight in carefully trimming away any damage and then styling their hair into something better than they'd imagined when describing what they wanted. Then, after drying their new 'do carefully, I'd watch them leave. They seemed to glow happily, utterly relaxed, and their hair gleamed in its new found health. It was wonderful. Creeped out now? I know I would be. My obsessive behaviour was so humiliating, I couldn't help but wonder if I had some kind of mental or behavioural disorder. I often asked myself whether I should go talk to a doctor or something. But, in the end, the fact was – I wasn't hurting myself or anyone else through my actions and, in reality, I was making people feel good about themselves. I decided that it was ok, at least at that moment in time, to allow my obsession to go on as it had. I was utterly content with my life.

About halfway through my second year, I had an assignment that stipulated I needed to restyle someone's hair. This wasn't the easiest of things to accomplish, considering how wary people could be about trusting a student with something as potentially dangerous as a new style. We had three weeks in which to convince someone to trust our talent, if this didn't happen, we had to style a wig, which wasn't something I particularly wanted to do. I was one of the luckier students considering the amount of people who had heard of me. I theorised that eventually someone would be willing to have their hair restyled by yours truly and I made a point of asking each of my clients if they were willing. After a week and a half, I was beginning to resign myself to styling a wig. I wasn't sure whether we'd be given a synthetic or human hair wig. Oddly, the idea of styling a human hair wig made me shudder. I supposed a synthetic wig could be interesting, but would also be utterly unlike styling someone's hair.

It was a Saturday when, just as I was putting on my apron (having refused point blank to wear one of those smocks), I heard my name from the salon. Frowning, I peeked around the door to see the manager talking to a tall skinny guy with a mop of sandy blond hair trailing its way down his neck. He was standing with his arms crossed stubbornly as the manager waved a hand in the direction of one of the more talented girls. Creeping up behind the counter, unseen, I caught the end of their discussion. "...just as talented." Came the manager's voice, her hand indicating a cheerful brunet who looked about ready to pee her pants in anticipation on getting her hands on the guys' hair.

"I wanted to see Roxas." Came the unexpectedly whiny response from the guy. His eyes were a rather lovely shade reminiscent of the sea. I eyed the guy's hair; it looked rough, like sand. I couldn't help wondering how it would really feel. My hands started to itch.

"Why him?" came a shrill, argumentative voice. The girl had awful hair, dyed way too many times and badly cared for so that it was brittle; her roots were growing in, dark against the false blonde bulk of her hair. Mystery guy snorted.

"Everyone says he's something special, especially for a second year. I need someone with talent," I grinned wickedly at the sly emphasis the guy put on the word 'talent' as he eyed the girl's bad dye job pointedly, "to give my hair some life. I mean, it's just all floppy and mop-ish. All my friends have awesome hair; I need something to make me stand out. I guess I'll come back another day."

He wanted me to re-style his hair? There was so much of it that I was sure I could manage something good. My brain chirped 'hello distinction' as I bounced to my feet from my hiding place, completely uncaring of the possibility of being considered crazy. No one noticed me anyway. Panicking as the blond guy turned to leave the salon; I cleared my throat and pasted a smile on my face.

"Hi, uh, did I hear someone shout for me?" I asked, beaming at the guy as he turned to look at me. I could not wait to get my hands on his hair. Sorry, I know, I'm a freak. Deal with it!

"You're Roxas?" he asked, eyes thoughtful. I nodded. "Interesting." He murmured to himself and walked over to me. "Can know, uh, do my hair? I mean. Uh, I want a new style, something unique and eye catching. Could you...?" he waggled his fingers around his head and grinned at me sheepishly.

"Sure!" I said, trying – and failing – to conceal my enthusiasm. I paused, sighing mentally at the necessary words. "But, before we start, I have to let you know that I am a student, I passed my first year in health and beauty and am halfway through my second year specialising in hair. There are professionals on hand in case there are any problems, but it's only..." The guy held up one hand to stop my spiel.

"It's ok, I trust the people who tell me you're awesome." He winked and held out his hand to shake mine. "My name is Demyx, and I confidently place my hair in your capable hands." I blushed slightly, shook his hand and led him over to the sinks. The guy – Demyx – plunked into the seat I indicated and leant back contentedly. He began jabbering on about his friends awesome haircuts and how his hair was boring as I began running the water to get it to the perfect temperature. "Zexion's hair is...silvery blue-ish purpley grey!" he informed me energetically as I chose shampoo and conditioner. "It's so cool, and messy, but all emo-ish even though he's not really emo, he's just quiet and clever and kinda shy. But he's got this awesome sense of humour, he's sarcastic and dry and sometimes you don't even notice he's said something funny at first. He says it with this completely straight face. It's awesome."

I maintained a calm facade as I mentally grouped Demyx with people like Sora, that kind of cheerful, incessant chatterbox type person. Luckily I'd have plenty of practice in tuning most of his speech out, only paying enough attention to be able to react in the appropriate places. In a lull of his stream of conversation, I quickly interjected and asked whether or not he would like a scalp massage as I washed his hair. It was amusing to see his utterly baffled expression as he asked a question in response. "Who wouldn't?" he asked, those striking eyes which were like Riku's but much darker were wide in confusion. I just shrugged.

"I dunno. You'd be surprised at the number of people who hate it." Demyx snorted and settled back in his chair, allowing me to start wetting his hair.

"Well, I think it's relaxing. You should see my roommate. He's got this long red hair and..." I admit, I tuned out Demyx's introduction to all of his friends, what their hair was like and whether they liked it to be touched or not. Riku had developed something similar to a phobia about people touching his hair, with the exception of Sora and his trusted elderly hairdresser. It had started with the day my mother kindly pinned him down and braided his hair, ending each with a little silver bell. Sora had found him almost in tears as he tried and failed to remove the bells so he could rescue his hair. Mum had tied them in pretty well. Took Sora about two hours to calm Riku down and return his hair to its usual state.

As Demyx chattered on (and on and on!) I washed his hair, massaging his scalp and rinsed, conditioned and towelled him off slightly. Grunting quietly so as not to disrupt his dialogue, I led him over to my work station and waited patiently for him to sit down and stop talking. He caught on quicker than Sora would have and subsided into silence, watching my face in the mirror's reflection. "Sooo," I began, drawing the word out thoughtfully as I tried picturing the sandy blond (surprisingly coarse) hair in various styles, "did you have a particular style in mind, or any kind of guide lines you want to discus before I start." Immediately Demyx piped up nervously.

"I don't wanna be bald." He squeaked, making me chuckle.

"Right, no ceremonial head shaving." He looked kinda frightened so I flashed him a reassuring smile. "Anything else?"

"Well, I want something unique, something that will stand out. I don't want super short hair, maybe something short on the sides and longer on top? Uhm..." I started shifting his hair gently, trying to picture something. He was really my kind of client, giving enough of an outline without being super restricting. Perfect for my assignment. I decided to ask a few more questions.

"How long would you be willing to spend styling your hair?" Demyx shrugged.

"Less hour?" he said questioningly. I smirked.

"And, would you be happy to use things like straighteners, products...multiple products?" I asked.

"Uh, I don't want curly hair." He informed me. "Or dreadlocks like Xaldin. But I do actually have some straighteners at home, though they're probably not very good. And I don't mind using gels or putty or hairspray." I nodded thoughtfully.

"Hey, Demyx?" I said, an image of what I thought would be a rather unique hair style forming in my minds eye, he hummed at me. "Do you mind if the style's really unusual?" The guy grinned.

"Nah! That's what I want. I'm fed up with having boring hair. Even Axel's hair's more exciting than mine because of its colour. Do what you want man, I trust ya!" I couldn't help but feel warmed by his trust.

"Ok. Now, do you want to see my progress, or the finished result?" I asked, hands itching to pick up scissors and shaver.

"Uh...cover the mirror! I want it to be a surprise." I beamed at him, did as I was told and began to style his hair.

I was in my element, I had complete control over Demyx's hair and he trusted me, a mere second year student, to not screw up. I didn't really think about it until I was carefully trimming a few stray long hairs before using a hair dryer to mostly dry the hair. Demyx was trusting me implicitly, and I'd given him a hair style that he'd be stuck with for a while. The sides were shaved short, not so short that you could see scalp, but kind of a fuzzy shortness, bristly. The top was longer and still mop-like with longer stands at the front and around his ears. The back was also longer, like a mullet. Shutting off the drier I drew in a deep breath and smiled shakily at Demyx as I moved to the work station to pick up a pot of hair putty. Warming a small amount in my hands, I began to style the long top section of his hair in a gravity defying brush. I added enough putty to hold the style and then, asking Demyx to close his eyes, sprayed the mass of sticking up hair liberally with hair spray. Not enough to make it rock solid, but enough to help the putty hold its shape. I didn't want the guy's hair to be like a hard hat, it needed to have a natural give to it, just without losing its shape. It was a delicate balance, but I like to think I had it perfected. The question was, would Demyx like it?

"Okay. Uh, you're done." I said nervously, licking my lips as I pulled the cover from the mirror and let Demyx examine his reflexion. I hid my hands behind my back and wriggled my toes anxiously. Demyx's face was utterly passive for a timeless moment. And then his face lit up with smiles. His hands lifted and long musician's fingers gently felt the texture of the sides of his head, then the back and finally the top.

"I love it!" he crowed, leaping to his feet and pulling me into a slightly awkward (only on my part) hug. I let out a sigh of relief as he released me. "It's awesome. I haven't seen anything like it. I love the different textures!" I smiled and urged him to sit down again as I coached him through the necessary materials he'd need to replicate the Mohawk-ish top part of his style.

"You probably will get away with sleeping with it and just re-spraying it in the morning. If you get it wet it'll droop and you'll need to re-apply some product. You can get waterproof products; you'll have to try some different brands to find the right type for you." Demyx thanked me profusely and went off humming happily. I felt awesome. Especially after I received a distinction on that assignment.

In the months remaining of my college year, people kept on requesting me. A few of them seemed very familiar; even though I was absolutely positive I had never met them before. It wasn't until a guy with this slate blue hair with a silver sheen arrived and solemnly asked for Roxas that it twigged. This procession of people with unusual hair were friends of Demyx. This was...Sexy? Zexyon? Something like that, he didn't deign to introduce himself but asked that I refine his usual style. He made the emo hair style look good. After this realisation I did manage to match up the name Larxene with a blonde girl with weird antenna like locks of hair who had been rude but left with a kind of begrudging respect for my work. Then there was dreadlock guy...and some older man with jet black hair streaked through with silvery white. I thought he looked like a badger, but he talked like a that turtle in that animated fish film Sora likes to watch. All people I could recognise from Demyx's chatter as I washed his hair. It was odd, but I was flattered that he'd apparently told his friends about me.

I was by far the most busy of all the students, I enjoyed my work, but hardly had time to clean my work station before someone else came wandering in and about a third of the customers would ask for me. Exams made it more and more difficult for me to function. I did not see the point in all the theory exams. I hated writing essays and spent hours on end revising, when I wasn't revising or taking the exams, I was working. It was wearing me out. I'm not a ray of sunshine at the best of times, but sleep deprivation and stress turned me into a little demon. I managed to keep my worst behaviour away from work, just being slightly less welcoming and friendly towards the customers. At home and on the rare occasions I found time to hang out with my friends, well, people started to avoid me. I couldn't help snapping at them, but really, I didn't mean to make Olette and Sora cry. By the time my final (practical) exam rolled around, I had drawn away from all social interaction and haunted my darkened bedroom like some kind of hermit's spectre.

The exam was to style someone's hair. I think bribery had taken place to supply the students with a client each. Apparently mine missed the memo. As the girls all took care of their clients and escaped into the warm summer sunshine to celebrate their freedom, I sat and waited. After two hours I felt about ready to cry, which was stupid. I felt like some kind of hormonal pms-ing girl. Yuck. The examiner seemed to take pity on me and sent someone to find my tutor who would supposedly corral someone into being my client. It made me angry, why could they not have graded me on one of the many many customers that I had worked on. Why was it that the one day I needed a customer, no one appeared?

I took a break to visit the bathroom and, I admit, I let a few tears fall. Tears of frustration you understand? I'd thought this exam would be simple. Now it looked like I'd fail it or something, have to take it at a different time. I dunno. It was too much for my already stress-frazzled brain to deal with. When I emerged from the bathroom, eyes even bluer from my ... tears (yes, I'm one of those abominable people who look ok when they cry), I was greeted by the sight of someone wearing all black facing away from me. The woman was very tall, it made me sigh silently, women were meant to be shorter than men, so why did she tower over me, with flat shoes on too? She wore a simple black t-shirt which didn't quite cover her midriff and tight black jeans hugging her shapely hips. And ... uh, well let's just say that my assumption that I was gay was bought into question as my gaze lingered on the area generally around the hips...but slightly below... yeah.

When I finally managed to tear my eyes away from the woman's...jeans back pockets, they trailed up to study her hair. It was gorgeous. Long, sweeping down to just below her shoulder blades, shiny with health and red. Blazing red, not ginger or strawberry blonde, or titian or copper, but red like flames and fire engines. Never had I ever wanted to touch someone's hair as much as I did in that one particular moment. Obviously, I wanted it so much that my body decided to cross the room on its own accord and my hand began to reach up to touch without consulting my brain. I was horrified by my behaviour, but couldn't muster the strength of will to stop it. My hand inched up from where it'd rested at my side and I just watched.

Until a pale hand with cool, slender fingers gripped mine and shook it. My eyes snapped up to meet the gorgeous green eyes of a man. Yep. The woman who I'd dropped all thoughts of homosexuality for was actually a guy. A guy with a surprisingly feminine hourglass figure, long long legs, divine hair and stunning green eyes that were smiling down at me with a sparkle of what I fervently prayed was interest. The guy was ... well, let's just say my frazzled brain had a cartoony tongue trailing with big goggle eyes popping out shaped like hearts. He had tattoos on his face, one small inverted tear drop one each cheek, starting at the centre of his lovely cheekbones. I was completely and hopelessly in love...or at least lust, with this man. This feeling was new to me. I wanted to touch his hair, but an equally strong want was lobbying to have me ask him out to the local pub for some good food and a pint or two. And my stomach decided to start tying itself in knots as my heart lodged itself firmly in my throat as if trying to leap out of my mouth to start yelling 'I love you! I love you! Take me I'm yours!'

As all of this happened to me, the man studied me. He looked so much calmer than I felt. I nearly melted when he smiled at me. "You must be Roxy." He began, I found myself nodding inanely. "Demyx and a few of my other friends suggested I ask you about giving my hair a makeover. Could you do that for me Roxy?" After about two more seconds of idiotic, mute nodding I shook my brain out of its stupor.

"Ah, yes, certainly...and, my name's Roxas, actually." I said, my voice trailing off shyly at the correction. The guy grinned.

"But Roxy sounds much cuter." He informed me before releasing my hand. "The name's Axel. Got it memorised?" More inane nodding followed as the guy was apprehended by the examiner and my tutor. They informed me that the other students' clients had been briefed about what kind of things to request, but if I was happy to use Axel as my exam customer, I was more than welcome. Nothing as suddenly pointless as an exam was going to stop me from touching that red hair!

I found myself falling into a routine, almost exactly like I had with Demyx. Except, I listened to every single word Axel said. I revelled in the blissful expression on his face as I massaged his scalp, luxuriated in the silkiness of his hair and filed away every other snippet of information he offered me. When I had him seated at my work station, I began to panic. He wanted a new style and for the first time ever, I didn't know if I trusted my skill enough to continue. His green eyes bored into mine through the mirror and then he winked at me. I gulped.

"Is there anything you had in mind today?" I found myself asking, heart racing. Axel smirked mischievously.

"Yeah, I did." He began mysteriously. "But not for my hair. I'm leaving that up to you Roxy." He winked again.

"Oh. Um, well..." I asked a stream of questions. How short was he willing to go? Was he willing to use straighteners? Did the idea of needing to use styling products concern him? After a while an image popped into my head. I knew exactly how I wanted his hair to look, but I wasn't sure if it would work. Before I could think on the feasibility, my hands had already covered the mirror, picked up my scissors and had begun to snip tufts of red away. I swallowed nervously and continued.

Axel didn't want his hair to be cut any shorter than shoulder length. He wanted something striking and unusual and would go to any means necessary to achieve it. So long as it wasn't curls and looked – in his own words – Hot and Sexy. I couldn't help but to glance nervously at the examiner. This was my kind of challenge, I loved this kind of creative freedom, but it wasn't going to be a conventional hair style and I was concerned that my grade would suffer for it.

I needn't have worried. Axel was thrilled with his hair. He said it looked like a cross between Knuckles and Sonic the hedgehogs, but he loved it. The examiner was a bit dubious, but the sight of Axel preening in the mirrors and then planting a kiss on my cheek was enough to convince everyone that he was genuinely happy with the result. In the end, I didn't have to ask him to the pub. He dragged me off to some party where a bunch of students were celebrating their freedom. It turns out that Riku and Demyx knew each other, as did Pence and Zexion. My friends were there too and they welcomed me back into sanity with open arms.

Me and Axel got to know each other rather well in the next month or so. We all spent most of our time at the beach. The number of times we crashed at Axel's place after a day at the beach, only to get up in the morning (or afternoon) to go back to the beach again was ridiculous. In the end we spent two weeks camping, Axel had me spiking his hair for him every day. I didn't mind at all and it was nice to see someone enjoying me playing with their hair as much as I enjoyed doing so. Everyone did well in their exams, and I actually came head of the class! I was so relieved that I'd done so well; it meant that following onto taking to further years at university was simple.

On August thirteenth, Axel asked me to be his boyfriend. I didn't exactly respond verbally, in fact I leapt on him and initiated my very first kiss. Everyone teased us when we told them our new relationship status; they said that it was about time.

It's been a year since that day. Indeed, it is mine and Axel's first anniversary. We spent the day at the beach. Just the two of us. Axel made a picnic, we swam, ate ice cream, built a sandcastle, went rock know, typical romantic stuff. Then we went home, he cooked me dinner and we celebrated a bit more. Over the year we've been a couple; I've tried and failed to figure out what Axel is drawn to. I could never figure out if it was eyes or hair or height or what. We spent so much time together, both going to the same university, him for Chemical Analysis and me for Hairdressing and Salon Management. I spent more time at his place than my own and we're considering renting a house together. But I still couldn't figure him out.

Axel snorted in amusement as he read over his boyfriend's shoulder. Roxas jumped in surprise, having assumed the lanky redhead had fallen asleep hours ago. "Babe, it's gone four in the morning! What are you doing up and writing?" He asked sleepily. Roxas blushed.

"What do you notice first about someone you like?" he asked in response. Axel frowned.

"I dunno, what do you mean?"

"Well...Riku likes eyes, and Sora likes hair." Roxas explained, blushing at the inquisitive light in Axel's eyes.

"So, what did you first notice about me?"

"I asked you first!" Roxas complained and then sighed as his boyfriend trailed a row of kisses up the side of his neck, making him shiver. "Your hips. I think, well, that's what I paid most attention to." Axel chuckled; his little Roxy was too precious with his blushing ears.

"You mean my ass, don't you?" Roxas squirmed in humiliation. He attempted to divert Axel's attention. The redhead allowed him to think he'd done so.

"I always focussed on hair! I've always been a hair person, more so than Sora. It was awful! If you hadn't taken my hand to shake it, I'd have been running my fingers through your hair before you'd even said a word." Roxas turned to face Axel who was staring at him in bemusement. "So what about you?" Axel hummed thoughtfully and then reached out to pull his small partner into a warm hug.

"Everything about you caught my attention." He said finally. "Just like you with me." Roxas pulled back to argue. "I was watching you in the reflection in the window. You studied all of me; admittedly your eyes did linger on my...hips," Axel smirked, "but probably not for as long as you seem to think. And when I turned around you studied my hands and my eyes and my lips. My hair and my tattoos. All of me. Well, all that you could." Roxas ducked his head in embarrassment.

"For me, well. Demyx decided that you were my soul mate." They both smiled at the phrase. "And then he sent they guys in to confirm his opinion. They were all protective over me because of some bad break up which meant a lot to me at the time but I can't even remember the guy's name now. When I first saw you...I knew what to expect. But you still took my breath away. I've always been a sucker for blue eyes and blond hair. Luckily for me, I like my boyfriends to be on the short side." He smiled and brushed his fingers through Roxas' tussled hair. "You've got the bluest eyes I've ever seen, your hair is so unique I could pick it out easily in a crowd, you're the perfect height for me to hold, you were adorable. I don't notice things about people...unless it's to compare them to you."

Roxas gaped at his boyfriend, cheeks warm from the mushy things he'd been saying. Then he chuckled softly and shut off his laptop before pushing Axel back onto the bed and snuggling close.

"You're a much bigger softie than I'd suspected." He said finally, eyes slipping shut in contentment as Axel's fingers ran across his scalp and his heartbeat lulled him towards sleep. Axel chortled.

"You just like my ass." He responded, laughing harder when Roxas tried to hit him. "Happy Anniversary Roxy." He cooed into his little blonde's ear.

"Hmph. Yeah...happy anniversary Axel."

A.N – Well. I did finish writing this at 4:30 am on the 13th of August. So it's AkuRoku day here in England! Happy AkuRoku day! I'm gunna wait til later to post though. :D

I'm sorry it's not much of a story. I wanted to do another like 'Everybody Wants to be a Cat' where they go to a Disney world. But, this wanted to be written. I'm not very good at the whole writing thing at the moment, so I allowed this story to go where it wanted. I hope it's ok!

I'm not a health and beauty student. I am a computing student. So, I don't really know how exams and assessments work on courses like Roxas'. But my college does have a salon for the students to work in. And the university courses actually exist at the uni I'll be attending in September.

Oh, and I think I totally fail at writing in 1st person. Sorry if it skips into third randomly somewhere in the middle. I think I caught them all! :D

Enjoy guys

Dreamy xxx