Silk. Italian Silk.
Letters from the Sky. By Civil Twilight
Good song man… (woo-men) Err…
PWP…
Forgive me all those who know me and all those who had the unfortunate luck to accidentally click into my story… u. u
Note: italics are supposed to be thoughts. Gah here goes...
--------------------
Dark, dark, dark silk. Italian.
Sighs
Was there ever another kind?
Briefly the man-child wondered, pondering on the end of his fountain pen. Brushes of chestnut horse-tail tied hair framed his bearing.
Natural, long, and somewhat embarrassingly effeminate; stark contrast to the definite-man lounging nearby in his customary smirk and fedora.
The hair, that is.
He had forgotten too many times to book himself for a cut, and now they only added to his unwittingly (and unknowingly) seductive image.
"Dame Tsuna, you sigh like a girl."
Frowning nervous amusement; "S-sorry, Reborn. I can't help it, ha…" honeydew eyes meets another pair too dark for him to understand and he feels like his mind is being read, again.
"Heh- eh? Reborn? You look strange"
"Hmph," the man ignores this statement and continues with the paper lightly held in his hands,
Ah, those hands…
Long slender fingers that look like they can do anything they please with death-like grip and excitement… Would the Italian be gentle with them? Rein in the power he wields, or unleash it whole, on whom ever the lucky (unlucky?) woman might be? Wait, would it definitely be a woman…?
He mentally smacks himself on the head, stupid, stupid, stupid, I mean, what am I thinking of thinking just now? Eehhhrggh…I'm not making sense…
He steals a quick glance to his far left, past the solid black mahogany desk he is perched behind. How does he always look so graceful? Like… like a cat, no, not a cat, ah-a… a jaguar
Another quick look. A small frown. No, not a jaguar, that's too… Bulky. He ponders some more, this small quandary needing to be solved before the mass of documents lying in wait before him can be dealt with.
A white Bengal tiger? One more glance. Not black enough.
The hitman straightens suddenly, stretching and relaxing his muscles, every movement well calculated and accounted for. Brimming with superior intellect.
Maybe not an animal, huh.
He ponders some more, his mind slowly taking it's time to bring about another idea, absentmindedly running a smooth finger around the rim of a delicate china teacup.
A lazy spring breeze wafts in, mixing the air in the room. The brunette breathes it in, eyes closed in a moment of content, not noticing the sly mafioso noticing his agreeable expression.
Eh, it's getting to warm to think, his eyes droop with languid thoughts of Armani suits and ebony silks.
He goes back to barely concealed silent admiration of the older man's wardrobe.
--------------------------
Eeeeeehhhhhhhhhhh…
*scratches head*
That was/is my First. Fan. Fic. Ever.
Omaigawsh
Normally I just read, and that was fine, but then one day my brain suddenly gave birth to this… ( Sorry for the horrible images)
Er I just hope it's not to bad, ne? Maybe I'll continue with this, maybe not depends on what you all think, like, is it good???
REVIEW-PPL-K-THAX-PLOX-BAI./
*headdesk*