Prompt # 69: Catch
Title: Volcanic
Author: aimee_blue
Prompt: Catch
Rating: T
Words: 250
Summary: AU. Sango should be used to it already, but Miroku knows just how to push her buttons.
Sango attempted to stay focused on the teacher’s longwinded lecture, but she could feel her eyes crossing in boredom. She knew very well that she shouldn’t beat Miroku with her fists, feet or other handy bludgeoning tools, it didn’t mean she could stop herself. If Miroku wasn’t so adept at royally irritating all of the patience out of her with his perverted ways and wandering hands, she wouldn’t have to suffer through the insufferable lectures.
The teachers never believed when she told them he’d been making lewd jokes that beckoned fierce retaliation; Miroku was their golden boy, smartest in the school with all the amiability of a monk.
Shooting a scathing glance in Miroku’s general direction, she cursed inwardly when he caught her gaze. Those unusual dark eyes drew her in each time and, for good measure, he threw in a languid smile that ruffled her tail-feathers.
The teacher left her in the middle of the corridor and she closed her eyes in resignation as she failed to escape quickly enough. Miroku was already beside her, mirth quirking the corners of his lips.
“You have quite the temper,” he commented affably.
The look she gave him would have turned a lesser man into stone.
“You need to learn to relax,” he expounded blithely, “Maybe I could help with that.” The inflection was impossible to miss, but she ignored it; what tipped her burning fury over was the casual bottom-pat as he strolled jauntily past.
And, once again, Sango responded beautifully.
Author: aimee_blue
Prompt: Catch
Rating: T
Words: 250
Summary: AU. Sango should be used to it already, but Miroku knows just how to push her buttons.
Sango attempted to stay focused on the teacher’s longwinded lecture, but she could feel her eyes crossing in boredom. She knew very well that she shouldn’t beat Miroku with her fists, feet or other handy bludgeoning tools, it didn’t mean she could stop herself. If Miroku wasn’t so adept at royally irritating all of the patience out of her with his perverted ways and wandering hands, she wouldn’t have to suffer through the insufferable lectures.
The teachers never believed when she told them he’d been making lewd jokes that beckoned fierce retaliation; Miroku was their golden boy, smartest in the school with all the amiability of a monk.
Shooting a scathing glance in Miroku’s general direction, she cursed inwardly when he caught her gaze. Those unusual dark eyes drew her in each time and, for good measure, he threw in a languid smile that ruffled her tail-feathers.
The teacher left her in the middle of the corridor and she closed her eyes in resignation as she failed to escape quickly enough. Miroku was already beside her, mirth quirking the corners of his lips.
“You have quite the temper,” he commented affably.
The look she gave him would have turned a lesser man into stone.
“You need to learn to relax,” he expounded blithely, “Maybe I could help with that.” The inflection was impossible to miss, but she ignored it; what tipped her burning fury over was the casual bottom-pat as he strolled jauntily past.
And, once again, Sango responded beautifully.