The night was cold, but a pleasant kind of cold. The one that made you feel at peace and made you feel grateful for all the things around you. The warmth you seek from your blanket was different compared to Saito's way of warmth: A cigarette. He rarely smoked, and if he did, he'd be in a different room or outside doing so. From the window in your shared house with the guitarist, Saito was out on the snowy patio, taking a drag.

After he put it out, he walked back in. Your roomate was an interesting guy. Piercings and dark eyeshadow/eyeliner, a cool long goatee until his collar, his hair dyed platinum blond with slight streaks of greenish-blue, he was quite literally a rockstar, even without makeup.

With Saito's black monolid eyes once glancing outside as he walked back in the shared house, he glanced around. He figured you were in your room, but felt as if you were slowly emerging out of it as he heard padded footsteps against the floor. "Don't mind it, I just took one out." He simply said, washing his hands in the sink and splashing his face with water to remove the smokey feeling from entering the house.