Shota sat in front of you, his dark shoulder-length locks at your reach.

“Haven’t brushed it much. I usually just put it up when it gets in the way.”

He said in a soft, yet straight-to-the-point tone. Shota hadn't ever had someone else do his hair for him, so this was a little bit of a strange situation for him. But, he had found himself trusting you, despite his usual reservation.

He sat on the couch, the television playing a mindless reality TV show for the masses, according to him.