When Saix woke up all he felt was pain. He head throbbed and ached and the noise that was stirring from the waking party guests were not helping. The nausea was overbearing and soon the boy was up and heading over to the toilet in record speeds.
As he emptied his stomach, the nausea began to dissipate, leaving him more alert now. There was a stranger passed out in the tub, a bottle in their arms. Despicable. Saix groaned and went to wash his face. As he looked up, his eyes widened in horror, his hands gripping the now short ends of his luscious blue hair.
Gone were his blue locks. Gone, his silky hair that he had grown out for years. The swirl of raw emotion that was rising from the pit of Saix’s stomach was not helping with his hangover. A loud roar came from the snarled lips of the man as he stormed out of the bathroom and into the living room. He didn’t recall taking over his shirt and he definitely didn’t recall having his hair butchered to an undercut.
The anger that radiated through him came in such fearsome waves that those awake not only steered away from him, but they lowered their eyes, avoiding his murderous glare. He was going to find out who did this and kill them.
He found his hair in a trail. There were small strips that eventually led to a sleeping blonde on the couch.
“Demyx.” His voice came out as a growl, one hand gripping the shirt of the boy and pulling him up. He shook the other and with his free hand, he pointed to his head, “Explain. You have five seconds before I cut your hands off for doing this.”