Prompt 1

"Write about someone who's hair color and length changes according to their mood."
- RealWorldRemedy
**Read "mood" as "dominant emotion"**

Sven walked up to his school, feeling a bit apprehensive.

When he had rolled out of bed that morning, he knew that there would be no avoiding trouble. His hair had been a darkish pink, cropped short in the back, buzzed on both sides, and at least five inches on top, flopping over to the left side of his face. Today was going to be Hell, like many other days he'd had in his life, and there was just no stopping it. Once again, his dreams and moods were going to be causing him issues in his waking like.

Passing a few students, Sven felt eyes on himself and could just hear the whispers and mumbled words as he walked, "How the hell does he change his hair like that?"..."I bet he has a bunch of wigs, y'know?"..."What an attention whore!"

Nobody could really stand the idea of his getting "special treatment" at their incredibly strict private school. The rules were clear, no hair dye, no flamboyant cuts, and absolutely no exceptions. Not even the teachers had a say in their own styles. He was the boy that got away with it, and not even the teachers knew why.

Sven walked to his classroom, more words floating up around him, and sat in his seat. Twenty-plus minutes early, he pulled out his sketchbook and began to lose himself.

His hands shifted and rocked over the fresh page, fingers wrapped almost lovingly around his pencil. At first, the drawing seemed to be nothing more that lines jumbled together, but they soon took shape, forming themselves into two people intertwined in the depths of passion. Sven's movements became more feverish and sudden as the sketch came closer to completion. Time passed in the blink of an eye, and the first students began to trickle into the room. It wasn't until one of them accidentally brushed his arm in passing that Sven jumped back into reality, closing his book and pulling it close to his own chest, finer details left unfinished.

Peter, Sven's longest and closest friend sat directly in front of him, laughing quietly about his friend's hair. Peter didn't know that Sven had feelings for him, and the artist wanted to keep it that way.

"What's goin' on up there, man?" Peter couldn't help himself.

Sven reached up, having felt his hair starting to change, and pulled some infront of his face. The style was a bit less severe and was changing into a deep orange. Crap. "No clue," he grunted. Now was not the time to have to deal with this. As he watched, the color seemed to subtly be flickering from the orange to the pink. No good, not good, not good...

Peter turned when the teacher walked in and class began. Sven sat, uncomfortable, as the teacher glared. Today, they had a double period in the one room, and Sven wished and wished that time would quicken, if only a bit.

After what felt like days, the bell rang. Sven nearly ran from the room, Peter following dutifully behind him, and they entered the elevator. Half way between floors, Peter leaned forward and stopped their assent.

"Sven," their eyes met, "I've been meaning to tell you this for a while. I guess today's the right day for it." He motioned to his friend's hair before taking a small step forward.

"Dude, what're you doing?"

"Just shut up," Sven stood, shocked, as his friend's lips lightly pressed into his own. It was only a moment, but it caused warmth to pass along his cheeks.

"I like you. I hope I was right, thinking you might like me too." He carded his fingers through the artist's hair, "You looked so frisky when I walked in, and then your hair got embarrassed…" Peter, brave as he had been moments before, was starting to lose his steam.

They stood in silence, the warning bell ringing. "Please say something…"

"I like you too." It was almost a whisper, but he heard it. Looking up, Peter saw bright orange framing his best friend's face, and grinned. They kissed again, just as quick, just as innocent, and Sven pressed the button to move again.

They hurried to class, almost arriving late, and spent the class alternately smiling and blushing at eachother.