Hair Envy

Chase Young was very pretty, Omi realized. His eyes were a golden sort of brown that reminded the little monk of honey; sweet and tantalizing. Omi was also amazed at how perfect and smooth Chase's skin looked. He supposed it was a benefit of taking the Lao Men Long soup that kept the half dragon forever young. Though what Omi admired most about the Heylin was his hair; dark, long and flowing with a streak of green to it. Ironically, it seemed like a mass of dragon scales in the right light.

Omi, having no hair to speak of, occasionally found himself staring longingly at that dark mane with a twinge of jealousy and admiration whenever he and his nemesis faced each other in battle. He felt a sudden urge to run his fingers through it just to know what it felt like. It became a constant distraction. He started making amateur mistakes that someone with his skills should not be making, but he couldn't help but be dazzled by the seemingly silky texture of the villain's ebony strands. His silent wish made his heart throb slightly and his face burn uncontrollably.

Chase, attuned to the little one's every move and gesture after observing him from afar for so long, noticed the mistakes of the tiny water dragon. It was not like the Xiaolin to make such foolish errors. At first, he could not guess as to what could have confused the small warrior so, but as he saw where the monk's admiring eyes were directed, a lazy, amused smile etched itself across his face.

A pair of lips caught the naive Xiaolin off guard. A stronger pair of hands took his smaller ones and directed them into the soft tresses of Chase's. Omi's eyes shut, savoring the feeling of it. Chase smirked at the warrior's submission.

The little monk should count himself lucky.

After all, Chase wouldn't let just anyone touch his hair.