[Reborn fic] Chrome in Five 1/3
originally written as one long post, ended up with three. hope this is somehow better.
1.
Chrome had decided that Italian is the language of God, and that the pineapple is the holiest of shapes.
She was thirteen and this was her first religion. She even styled her hair like his, dressed the way she thought he would like - after all, she was in a unique position to fancy herself as his high priestess, divine avatar and lowly servant all at once.
Ken and Chikusa (Ken, especially) liked to gripe about how corny and "cheap" it was that she copied his hairstyle and color scheme and as much about him as she could. It hurt, but Chrome brushed them off thinking You're just jealous 'cause you can't make your hair spike upwards at the top.
Someday, she said to herself - if they became too troublesome, she was going to say such things outloud. And for a moment, it amazed her that she could be so bold. Having spent most of her young life avoiding people, it felt weird to fantasize about being witty or bossy or fun.
The fact remained that she knew God better than anyone... and that warranted some respect, didn't it? She pursed her lips and told herself Yes, she should learn how to be braver. Or at least to be more at ease. Ken and Chikusa would never hurt her. Not when she was God's favorite girl.
A smirk escaped her. "God's favorite girl." She liked that.
She cut herself a small piece of the pineapple pie sitting in front of her. And with a serene smile, she brought the piece up to her lips. Her lips clamped around the fork, and the nerves on the inside of her mouth felt the crumbling crust and the smooth strands of the filling.
However, to her two-second surprise, she didn't taste anything.
Ah-ah, a familiar playful voice said in her head. This one is mine, little one. Surely you don't mind?
Chrome sighed. Of course not. Having been deprived of the actual experience of eating anything, the voice in her head was welcome at least to the taste of anything he liked.
Chrome was devoted to her new religion. She knew many of God's mysteries. This was one of them:
Sometimes God was a stingy child who didn't like to share his pie.
(tbc)
1.
Chrome had decided that Italian is the language of God, and that the pineapple is the holiest of shapes.
She was thirteen and this was her first religion. She even styled her hair like his, dressed the way she thought he would like - after all, she was in a unique position to fancy herself as his high priestess, divine avatar and lowly servant all at once.
Ken and Chikusa (Ken, especially) liked to gripe about how corny and "cheap" it was that she copied his hairstyle and color scheme and as much about him as she could. It hurt, but Chrome brushed them off thinking You're just jealous 'cause you can't make your hair spike upwards at the top.
Someday, she said to herself - if they became too troublesome, she was going to say such things outloud. And for a moment, it amazed her that she could be so bold. Having spent most of her young life avoiding people, it felt weird to fantasize about being witty or bossy or fun.
The fact remained that she knew God better than anyone... and that warranted some respect, didn't it? She pursed her lips and told herself Yes, she should learn how to be braver. Or at least to be more at ease. Ken and Chikusa would never hurt her. Not when she was God's favorite girl.
A smirk escaped her. "God's favorite girl." She liked that.
She cut herself a small piece of the pineapple pie sitting in front of her. And with a serene smile, she brought the piece up to her lips. Her lips clamped around the fork, and the nerves on the inside of her mouth felt the crumbling crust and the smooth strands of the filling.
However, to her two-second surprise, she didn't taste anything.
Ah-ah, a familiar playful voice said in her head. This one is mine, little one. Surely you don't mind?
Chrome sighed. Of course not. Having been deprived of the actual experience of eating anything, the voice in her head was welcome at least to the taste of anything he liked.
Chrome was devoted to her new religion. She knew many of God's mysteries. This was one of them:
Sometimes God was a stingy child who didn't like to share his pie.
(tbc)