wheee I wrote a little thing yay!
Soooo d_angel777 had a 'writer's anonymeme' where people on her flist wrote a few paragraphs of fic or whatever and she tried to guess who it was. Well, she guessed me (on the SECOND try DD: ) and, since I liked the drabble so much, I thought I'd put it up over here, if only so I don't lose it ^^*
But, yeah, dedicated to DA since I wrote it for her, even though. THE OTHER FIC I PROMISED YOU IS COMING. REALLY.
..EVENTUALLY.
(butbut. ILU? *puppyface*)
Anyway!
Cleanliness is a Virtue, by rancidmelody. G, 272 words.
(I know it's hardly long enough to merit a title but, as a reccer, untitled things bother me ^^*)
Never let it be said that Sanada Genichirou did not keep a clean house. The problem, in Ryoma's opinion, was that Sanada's idea of clean involved throwing everything away. Ryoma was hardly a pack-rat, himself, but something about the starkness of the surfaces of Sanada's room left him feeling less like he was in a house and more like he was in asylum. He knew that traditional Japanese interior decorating styles tended towards minimalistic at best, but Sanada, as in everything else he put his mind to, simply took the matter a bit too seriously.
Ryoma was fairly sure he would have pointed this out a long time ago -- he rarely felt the need to be anything but candid about things that bothered him in their relationship, and he knew that Sanada appreciated that -- but for one thing, one thing that made his irritation dissolve into a soft, warm, vaguely squishy feeling that he really wasn't ready to think about, yet.
Every time he visited Sanada at his house, the shelves of his bedroom and the surface of his desk would be swept completely bare of anything but necessary books and tools, excepting for a single thing. On the third from the top of his bookshelves, two sports caps -- one white, one navy -- sat side-by-side, between a calligraphy set and a small collection of history texts. Each was worn and dirty, having outlived usefulness by several years now, and yet, unlike everything else that he no longer used, Sanada had not thrown them out. Ryoma never mentioned it, but privately, he hoped that the older boy never would.
...I wonder if I should change it to present tense? That might be better...
But, yeah, dedicated to DA since I wrote it for her, even though. THE OTHER FIC I PROMISED YOU IS COMING. REALLY.
..EVENTUALLY.
(butbut. ILU? *puppyface*)
Anyway!
Cleanliness is a Virtue, by rancidmelody. G, 272 words.
(I know it's hardly long enough to merit a title but, as a reccer, untitled things bother me ^^*)
Never let it be said that Sanada Genichirou did not keep a clean house. The problem, in Ryoma's opinion, was that Sanada's idea of clean involved throwing everything away. Ryoma was hardly a pack-rat, himself, but something about the starkness of the surfaces of Sanada's room left him feeling less like he was in a house and more like he was in asylum. He knew that traditional Japanese interior decorating styles tended towards minimalistic at best, but Sanada, as in everything else he put his mind to, simply took the matter a bit too seriously.
Ryoma was fairly sure he would have pointed this out a long time ago -- he rarely felt the need to be anything but candid about things that bothered him in their relationship, and he knew that Sanada appreciated that -- but for one thing, one thing that made his irritation dissolve into a soft, warm, vaguely squishy feeling that he really wasn't ready to think about, yet.
Every time he visited Sanada at his house, the shelves of his bedroom and the surface of his desk would be swept completely bare of anything but necessary books and tools, excepting for a single thing. On the third from the top of his bookshelves, two sports caps -- one white, one navy -- sat side-by-side, between a calligraphy set and a small collection of history texts. Each was worn and dirty, having outlived usefulness by several years now, and yet, unlike everything else that he no longer used, Sanada had not thrown them out. Ryoma never mentioned it, but privately, he hoped that the older boy never would.
...I wonder if I should change it to present tense? That might be better...