I wrote something
Miroku sat in the grass on a hill, sighing to himself. It had been about ten days since Sango had left, telling him she had to return to her village for a while. He had understood, he really had, but the act of her leaving seemed to be more painful than he thought it would be.
It wasn't that he couldn't go three minutes without touching her. It wasn't that he had to be, metaphorically, up her ass all the time. And they didn't have children to care for yet; They had only been married a month.
So why? Why was it that Miroku was having issues getting comfortable in bed at night, unable to rest? Why did he almost jump out of his skin when he thought he heard her voice?
He wasn't exactly sure.
However, all became clear as a pair of arms wrapped around his neck and a warm kiss was planted on the back of his neck. “Miss me?”
The monk smiled, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He turned a bit and embraced his wife, kissing her mouth once. “Yes. I did."
It wasn't that he couldn't go three minutes without touching her. It wasn't that he had to be, metaphorically, up her ass all the time. And they didn't have children to care for yet; They had only been married a month.
So why? Why was it that Miroku was having issues getting comfortable in bed at night, unable to rest? Why did he almost jump out of his skin when he thought he heard her voice?
He wasn't exactly sure.
However, all became clear as a pair of arms wrapped around his neck and a warm kiss was planted on the back of his neck. “Miss me?”
The monk smiled, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He turned a bit and embraced his wife, kissing her mouth once. “Yes. I did."