(no subject)
Title: Jitters
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Pairings: Bianchi/Lal Mirch (sort of), Lal Mirch/Colonello
Rating: G
Word Count: 1200
Notes: Man, this has been sitting on my flash drive for about...two weeks now? And I'unno. It's not what I usually write. It's probably wildly OoC. But I need to put it out there so I can move on with my life and stop berating myself over it. XD This, uh, this is my attempt to like Lal by experimenting with writing her. I maybe like her a bit more after this. But just maybe.
Bianchi had caught on the first time Lal Mirch let a glass slip from her hand and shatter into the bottom of the sink. But she waited until the third time to say anything.
"Would you calm down? If you're this worked up, the next two hours will feel like days."
Lal scowled and used a spatula to scrape the shards onto a plate. "I am calm," she said, jerking her head to flip her bangs out of her eyes.
Bianchi smiled to herself as she rinsed another glass under the tap and passed it to Lal. "Try not to break this one, sweetheart," she said, "we only have so many. Anyway, it's perfectly normal to be nervous before a big date."
Lal's face flushed pink. "It's not a date! It's just a strategy meeting. He's bringing over some documents--"
"And then he's taking you out for drinks," Bianchi said smugly, "that makes it a date."
Lal rubbed the glass fiercely with a towel. "He just thinks it would do me some good to get out of this place for a while." Her voice was soft, almost ashamed.
"It would. A world of good. Especially if you go with Colonello."
Lal groaned and took the plate Bianchi was offering to her. "I wish it was anyone else! He's such an idiot--so loud and impulsive!" She gestured widely to punctuate her point and the plate slid from her hand and clattered to the floor.
"Lal!" Bianchi gently gripped Lal's wrists and guided her away from the sink. "Come on," she said, directing her to the living room, "dishes can wait. You need some girl talk."
Lal looked at her skeptically, one eyebrow raised. "I...think I'm fine."
Bianchi smiled. "Perhaps. But my dishes aren't. Sit."
Lal looked rebellious but defeated, and she sank down on a bench. Bianchi kneeled on the floor beside her.
"It's just a date," she said, "with the one you love."
"I don't--"
But Bianchi held up a hand to silence her. "It's just drinks and--" Bianchi appraised her. "You're not wearing this, are you?"
Lal looked down, a perplexed wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. "Um?"
Bianchi frowned. "Sweetheart, you're wearing the clothes you trained in this morning. You're not going to a sparring match!"
Lal scoffed. "You don't know Colonello."
A very serious expression came over Bianchi's face. "A gentleman would never fight a lady. Lal, these clothes stink of sweat. I'll tell you what. I have this dress that Reborn loves on me--"
"Oh, God. Not the black one. Please. What's wrong with my sweatpants?"
Bianchi sighed. "Sweatpants, Lal. Sweat. Pants. Colonello always sees you in your training clothes. Tonight is special. It's a date."
"It's not a date!"
"Hush. Now, about your hair..."
"...What's wrong with my hair? If you cut it, I'll kill you."
Bianchi smirked. "I'm not going to cut it. Relax. It's just..." Bianchi got up from her cross-legged position on the floor. "You're just so pretty, Lal. And Colonello knows that, I know. But that's no reason to hide it behind all of this hair."
Lal blushed and looked away. "He doesn't think I'm pretty."
Bianchi put her hands on her hips. "He loves you."
"He does not!"
"I'll make him a cake, and we'll see who he loves."
Lal shivered. "Th-that won't be necessary."
Bianchi smiled warmly, an expression betraying her earlier words. "The offer still stands." She reached out and ran her fingers through Lal's long dark hair. "Lal, Lal. Let me play with your hair? Colonello will like it. You'll like it."
Her eyes slid closed at the contact. "Just...nothing weird, okay?" Her voice was quiet and resigned.
Bianchi scritched her fingers twice against Lal's scalp. "Nothing weird. I promise."
And, eyes still closed, Lal felt a brush slide through her hair. She didn't know where it came from; she didn't care. A few more gentle strokes and Bianchi's fingers began working deftly through her hair, separating it into sections, making them neat. Then she started to weave the sections together into a braid.
"Men," Bianchi said softly, and Lal could hear the mixture of amusement and gentleness in her voice, "you'd swear we'd be happier without them. Anyway, you are going to be beautiful," she promised, "and you're going to have such a good time."
Lal snorted, a very cynical, unladylike noise. "What, discussing mission strategy?"
Bianchi tugged down hard on her braid. "Discussing love. I remember the first time Reborn took me out. Well, I took him out dancing. And he didn't really dance. But we had deep, meaningful conversations. He told me how much he loved me, except, he didn't really have to say it. I just knew. See, I made him a pie before we left."
"Ah," Lal said. Of course.
Bianchi wrapped the last few inches of Lal's hair into the braid and secured it with what felt suspiciously like a ribbon. Lal did not do ribbons. Normally. But there was no arguing with Bianchi.
She opened her eyes as she heard Bianchi move around to the the front. She straddled Lal's thighs and began pushing her bangs around with her fingers. "Oh, Lal, and after he walked me home, we were standing outside this door, and he kissed me."
Lal made a squeaking noise in her throat and looked away.
Bianchi grinned. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about that part. Colonello's so handsome--can't you just picture his eyes all up close and gazing down into yours?"
"I wouldn't-- I'd never--"
Bianchi leaned back to appraise her work. "Oh, Lal, you know it's not that big of a deal."
"It is!"
And Bianchi smirked. "You mean, you've never..."
Lal scowled and looked away.
"Sweetie," Bianchi said, her voice careful, "it's easy. You just..."
And Bianchi leaned forward, ducked her head down, and pressed her lips against Lal's, warm and moist and gentle. Lal's heart stuttered and she took in the scent of cinnamon and tea and Bianchi. She felt goosebumps rise on her arms. Bianchi lingered for a moment, flicked her tongue playfully against Lal's lips, and pulled back.
"There," she said, "got that out of the way. Now, save your first real one for Colonello."
Lal sputtered as she opened her eyes. "It's not like that! It's just a--"
"A strategy meeting. Hey," Colonello said from where he leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. But his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Right, Lal?"
And her face flushed a deep red. Bianchi smiled, very pleased with herself. She leaned in close and whispered in Lal's ear.
"Don't worry. I know it doesn't seem like it, but true love will cure your nervousness."
Over Bianchi's shoulder, Lal could see Colonello smirk.
"You ladies finished? Because I was thinking maybe we could go out first and see if we had time for business later."
Lal glanced away and nodded.
Colonello grinned. "Let's go then. Hey."
And Bianchi watched them leave, smiling at them as they walked out the door. She supposed the sweatpants would have to do. Crazy kids.
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Pairings: Bianchi/Lal Mirch (sort of), Lal Mirch/Colonello
Rating: G
Word Count: 1200
Notes: Man, this has been sitting on my flash drive for about...two weeks now? And I'unno. It's not what I usually write. It's probably wildly OoC. But I need to put it out there so I can move on with my life and stop berating myself over it. XD This, uh, this is my attempt to like Lal by experimenting with writing her. I maybe like her a bit more after this. But just maybe.
Bianchi had caught on the first time Lal Mirch let a glass slip from her hand and shatter into the bottom of the sink. But she waited until the third time to say anything.
"Would you calm down? If you're this worked up, the next two hours will feel like days."
Lal scowled and used a spatula to scrape the shards onto a plate. "I am calm," she said, jerking her head to flip her bangs out of her eyes.
Bianchi smiled to herself as she rinsed another glass under the tap and passed it to Lal. "Try not to break this one, sweetheart," she said, "we only have so many. Anyway, it's perfectly normal to be nervous before a big date."
Lal's face flushed pink. "It's not a date! It's just a strategy meeting. He's bringing over some documents--"
"And then he's taking you out for drinks," Bianchi said smugly, "that makes it a date."
Lal rubbed the glass fiercely with a towel. "He just thinks it would do me some good to get out of this place for a while." Her voice was soft, almost ashamed.
"It would. A world of good. Especially if you go with Colonello."
Lal groaned and took the plate Bianchi was offering to her. "I wish it was anyone else! He's such an idiot--so loud and impulsive!" She gestured widely to punctuate her point and the plate slid from her hand and clattered to the floor.
"Lal!" Bianchi gently gripped Lal's wrists and guided her away from the sink. "Come on," she said, directing her to the living room, "dishes can wait. You need some girl talk."
Lal looked at her skeptically, one eyebrow raised. "I...think I'm fine."
Bianchi smiled. "Perhaps. But my dishes aren't. Sit."
Lal looked rebellious but defeated, and she sank down on a bench. Bianchi kneeled on the floor beside her.
"It's just a date," she said, "with the one you love."
"I don't--"
But Bianchi held up a hand to silence her. "It's just drinks and--" Bianchi appraised her. "You're not wearing this, are you?"
Lal looked down, a perplexed wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. "Um?"
Bianchi frowned. "Sweetheart, you're wearing the clothes you trained in this morning. You're not going to a sparring match!"
Lal scoffed. "You don't know Colonello."
A very serious expression came over Bianchi's face. "A gentleman would never fight a lady. Lal, these clothes stink of sweat. I'll tell you what. I have this dress that Reborn loves on me--"
"Oh, God. Not the black one. Please. What's wrong with my sweatpants?"
Bianchi sighed. "Sweatpants, Lal. Sweat. Pants. Colonello always sees you in your training clothes. Tonight is special. It's a date."
"It's not a date!"
"Hush. Now, about your hair..."
"...What's wrong with my hair? If you cut it, I'll kill you."
Bianchi smirked. "I'm not going to cut it. Relax. It's just..." Bianchi got up from her cross-legged position on the floor. "You're just so pretty, Lal. And Colonello knows that, I know. But that's no reason to hide it behind all of this hair."
Lal blushed and looked away. "He doesn't think I'm pretty."
Bianchi put her hands on her hips. "He loves you."
"He does not!"
"I'll make him a cake, and we'll see who he loves."
Lal shivered. "Th-that won't be necessary."
Bianchi smiled warmly, an expression betraying her earlier words. "The offer still stands." She reached out and ran her fingers through Lal's long dark hair. "Lal, Lal. Let me play with your hair? Colonello will like it. You'll like it."
Her eyes slid closed at the contact. "Just...nothing weird, okay?" Her voice was quiet and resigned.
Bianchi scritched her fingers twice against Lal's scalp. "Nothing weird. I promise."
And, eyes still closed, Lal felt a brush slide through her hair. She didn't know where it came from; she didn't care. A few more gentle strokes and Bianchi's fingers began working deftly through her hair, separating it into sections, making them neat. Then she started to weave the sections together into a braid.
"Men," Bianchi said softly, and Lal could hear the mixture of amusement and gentleness in her voice, "you'd swear we'd be happier without them. Anyway, you are going to be beautiful," she promised, "and you're going to have such a good time."
Lal snorted, a very cynical, unladylike noise. "What, discussing mission strategy?"
Bianchi tugged down hard on her braid. "Discussing love. I remember the first time Reborn took me out. Well, I took him out dancing. And he didn't really dance. But we had deep, meaningful conversations. He told me how much he loved me, except, he didn't really have to say it. I just knew. See, I made him a pie before we left."
"Ah," Lal said. Of course.
Bianchi wrapped the last few inches of Lal's hair into the braid and secured it with what felt suspiciously like a ribbon. Lal did not do ribbons. Normally. But there was no arguing with Bianchi.
She opened her eyes as she heard Bianchi move around to the the front. She straddled Lal's thighs and began pushing her bangs around with her fingers. "Oh, Lal, and after he walked me home, we were standing outside this door, and he kissed me."
Lal made a squeaking noise in her throat and looked away.
Bianchi grinned. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about that part. Colonello's so handsome--can't you just picture his eyes all up close and gazing down into yours?"
"I wouldn't-- I'd never--"
Bianchi leaned back to appraise her work. "Oh, Lal, you know it's not that big of a deal."
"It is!"
And Bianchi smirked. "You mean, you've never..."
Lal scowled and looked away.
"Sweetie," Bianchi said, her voice careful, "it's easy. You just..."
And Bianchi leaned forward, ducked her head down, and pressed her lips against Lal's, warm and moist and gentle. Lal's heart stuttered and she took in the scent of cinnamon and tea and Bianchi. She felt goosebumps rise on her arms. Bianchi lingered for a moment, flicked her tongue playfully against Lal's lips, and pulled back.
"There," she said, "got that out of the way. Now, save your first real one for Colonello."
Lal sputtered as she opened her eyes. "It's not like that! It's just a--"
"A strategy meeting. Hey," Colonello said from where he leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. But his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Right, Lal?"
And her face flushed a deep red. Bianchi smiled, very pleased with herself. She leaned in close and whispered in Lal's ear.
"Don't worry. I know it doesn't seem like it, but true love will cure your nervousness."
Over Bianchi's shoulder, Lal could see Colonello smirk.
"You ladies finished? Because I was thinking maybe we could go out first and see if we had time for business later."
Lal glanced away and nodded.
Colonello grinned. "Let's go then. Hey."
And Bianchi watched them leave, smiling at them as they walked out the door. She supposed the sweatpants would have to do. Crazy kids.