"...and I hope she knows how troublesome she is, tch, why do these things have to happen to me? As if I don't get enough nagging from my mother."
Shikamaru sighed dramatically and ran his fingers through his slightly damp, let down hair as he plodded through the hall with Chouji. They had just returned from the basement, where they were scoping out to see if there were any working washers left. He was running low on clean laundry, lazily clad in a white button-down that had an ink blot on the collar and some worn jeans. His brows were furrowed in his overworked expression that had little merit--he'd done nothing strainful today as all he did was play a few rounds of chess.
Eyes wide and staring, she was caught peeking around the corner like a toddler. She would have said something in her defense, but she was more than a bit stupified. Lips forming Chouji's name, but it seemed like her throat wouldn't relenquish the syllables.
Slipping around the corner like a cat, she snuck up behind the darker boy, who hadn't noticed her yet. Like a ninja, she got behind him, carefully gathering his hair up into a high ponytail, she couldn't help but stare. Leaning around his shoulder to look at his face, her eye got wider.
"...Shika?" Later, she would flog herself for how small her voice sounded, but she was too busy with being in shock at the moment.
A bristle ran through him, his head only slightly inclined in Chouji's general direction at his abrupt change of subject. They hadn't talked about their long-lost childhood playmate in ages. "How can you jump from making out to Ino like that, what--"
Then it was there around him like the heaviness of the air in three-eleven, her scent. It was unmistakable, some strange cross between cosmos flowers and gummy bears. It hit him so unexpectedly that it took a moment to register the lithe arms one his shoulders and fingers in his hair. His already strict irises dilated and shrank with her replacing his natural light, taking in the grown face of the bossy little girl he knew so long ago.
"Ino...you...what...what are you doing here?" He was incredulous, and neglected to even try to shrug her from his shoulders. The sheer idea of little miss high fashion setting foot in such a building was beyond him.
Comments 16
Shikamaru sighed dramatically and ran his fingers through his slightly damp, let down hair as he plodded through the hall with Chouji. They had just returned from the basement, where they were scoping out to see if there were any working washers left. He was running low on clean laundry, lazily clad in a white button-down that had an ink blot on the collar and some worn jeans. His brows were furrowed in his overworked expression that had little merit--he'd done nothing strainful today as all he did was play a few rounds of chess.
"This month is just a damn bother."
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And then he stopped short when he caught a glimpse of blond hair and familiar (if older) features. Speaking of troublesome girls. "Ino?"
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Slipping around the corner like a cat, she snuck up behind the darker boy, who hadn't noticed her yet. Like a ninja, she got behind him, carefully gathering his hair up into a high ponytail, she couldn't help but stare. Leaning around his shoulder to look at his face, her eye got wider.
"...Shika?" Later, she would flog herself for how small her voice sounded, but she was too busy with being in shock at the moment.
Reply
Then it was there around him like the heaviness of the air in three-eleven, her scent. It was unmistakable, some strange cross between cosmos flowers and gummy bears. It hit him so unexpectedly that it took a moment to register the lithe arms one his shoulders and fingers in his hair. His already strict irises dilated and shrank with her replacing his natural light, taking in the grown face of the bossy little girl he knew so long ago.
"Ino...you...what...what are you doing here?" He was incredulous, and neglected to even try to shrug her from his shoulders. The sheer idea of little miss high fashion setting foot in such a building was beyond him.
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