Challenge 02
In which Niyali attempts dialogue and fails at an ending. o_o;;
Something So Small
Challenge:
ShishiTori
Soup, a thumbtack, and a letter
Warnings: PG-13 for one swear word ^^
There it was again.
Every time he put his foot down it landed a bit harder than Shishido knew it should. And then his other foot was barely touching the floor at all, toes connecting but the heel always avoiding contact with the grey tiles of Hyoutei’s cafeteria.
“Choutarou!”
The object of his attentions turned abruptly, the bowl of soup rattling dangerously on his tray as he fixed brown eyes inquiringly on Shishido.
“Yes, Shishido-san?”
Lost in those eyes for a moment, Shishido had to blink before he could remember what he was going to say.
“You’re limping, Choutarou.”
With anybody else the statement would have been curt, sharp, but with Choutarou it was dulled, softened to an almost delicate fondness.
“Oh.” Those eyes looked away with embarrassment, as Ohtori offered a nervous laugh. “It’s nothing much. I just stepped on a thumbtack this morning.”
Shishido winced in sympathy. He’d done that before.
“Are you alright? Are you going to be able to play on it?”
His doubles partner laughed again, but it wasn’t as nervous as before. Shishido knew him well enough to recognize the tone of the laugh: you’re so cute when you’re worrying, Shishido-san. “Don’t worry about me, Shishido-san! I’ll be fine.”
It was really too bad that it was a senpai’s job to worry. “Are you sure? Fuck, Choutarou, if you’re really hurt I can always ask Atobe to write you a note excusing you from practice today, with the tournament coming up we don’t want-”
“Shishido-san!” Ohtori laughed once more, setting his tray down on a table. “I’m alright. Really. Stop worrying about me.”
They both knew far too well that Shishido shouldn’t ask for such things. There were no excuses at Hyoutei for not being able to do your best. Nothing as small as a thumbtack would stop Ohtori from playing.
And they both knew it.
“Okay,” Shishido grudgingly agreed, pushing a letter advertising the Go Club aside to make room for his tray across from Ohtori. “But I’ll be watching you.”
Ohtori smiled, and the happiness he always found finally reached his eyes. “Of course, Shishido-san.”
Shishido smiled back.
They spent the rest of their lunch hour staring into the other’s eyes.
Something So Small
Challenge:
ShishiTori
Soup, a thumbtack, and a letter
Warnings: PG-13 for one swear word ^^
There it was again.
Every time he put his foot down it landed a bit harder than Shishido knew it should. And then his other foot was barely touching the floor at all, toes connecting but the heel always avoiding contact with the grey tiles of Hyoutei’s cafeteria.
“Choutarou!”
The object of his attentions turned abruptly, the bowl of soup rattling dangerously on his tray as he fixed brown eyes inquiringly on Shishido.
“Yes, Shishido-san?”
Lost in those eyes for a moment, Shishido had to blink before he could remember what he was going to say.
“You’re limping, Choutarou.”
With anybody else the statement would have been curt, sharp, but with Choutarou it was dulled, softened to an almost delicate fondness.
“Oh.” Those eyes looked away with embarrassment, as Ohtori offered a nervous laugh. “It’s nothing much. I just stepped on a thumbtack this morning.”
Shishido winced in sympathy. He’d done that before.
“Are you alright? Are you going to be able to play on it?”
His doubles partner laughed again, but it wasn’t as nervous as before. Shishido knew him well enough to recognize the tone of the laugh: you’re so cute when you’re worrying, Shishido-san. “Don’t worry about me, Shishido-san! I’ll be fine.”
It was really too bad that it was a senpai’s job to worry. “Are you sure? Fuck, Choutarou, if you’re really hurt I can always ask Atobe to write you a note excusing you from practice today, with the tournament coming up we don’t want-”
“Shishido-san!” Ohtori laughed once more, setting his tray down on a table. “I’m alright. Really. Stop worrying about me.”
They both knew far too well that Shishido shouldn’t ask for such things. There were no excuses at Hyoutei for not being able to do your best. Nothing as small as a thumbtack would stop Ohtori from playing.
And they both knew it.
“Okay,” Shishido grudgingly agreed, pushing a letter advertising the Go Club aside to make room for his tray across from Ohtori. “But I’ll be watching you.”
Ohtori smiled, and the happiness he always found finally reached his eyes. “Of course, Shishido-san.”
Shishido smiled back.
They spent the rest of their lunch hour staring into the other’s eyes.