Okay, okay, so I've been wondering about here, getting some wonderful inspiration. I'll just let you all know that this is my first time posting a fanfiction EVER, and this is my first time attempt at femslash, so I'm pretty much open to any criticism. Anywho, I hope you all enjoy this. ^^; (I'll warn you all that I am a HUGE AM shipper. xD)
“Mou iyada!”
Just as I finished lighting some candles and setting the dinner table, I heard this exasperated shout. My feet began to travel towards the location of the shout, concern beginning to grow on me. Was she hurt? Did something bad just happen to her? I only left her alone for a few minutes! When I reached the living room, though, a cool smirk played along my lips as I wanted to smack myself for over compensating the whole thing.
“Since I could never rip you away from it, I had hidden my precious Nintendo DS, but it seems my attempts have failed. You are a sneaky little girl,” I sighed, crossing my arms across my chest, yet, continuing to smile.
I watched as Ayaya looked up at me, a bit startled at first. She had flung the DS onto the other side of the couch from frustration, I assumed. She always wants to be perfect at everything. But, I like it when she loses at something, because . . . She ends up making this adorable face and pouting. Oh, she’s even doing it now. My eyes followed her as she stood up, walked over and picked up the DS, bringing it to show me the screen. Finally seeing what had upset her so much, I grabbed my DS back and laughed aloud. (Though, she only began to pout more at my amusement.)
Aya had been playing the Brain Age game and found herself to have the mind of . . . an 86 year-old. Realistically, my score was no better, but I wanted to lead her on for my amusement. Yet, after hearing me continuously laugh until my stomach hurt, she took the DS back.
“Baka, baka, baka . . .”
“You’re going to be determined to beat that now, ne?”
“Well, what was your score?”
“So you want to make competition now, eh? Well, I’m not going to tell you anyway.”
“Mmm . . . I guess that means you did worse then me then.”
“Eh? Chotto matte!”
“Awe, c’mon, Mikitty. Admit it!”
“Why should I? There’s no reason to admit to something that isn’t true.”
Stubborn, I know. But, before I know it . . . I’ll admit everything to her. Everything I’ve felt the past few years. Perhaps I would have sooner, but I can’t determine her reactions. I mean, she could become totally freaked out and disgusted, never wanting to be friends again. At least, now, I want us to remain close friends.
“Ugh, you’re trying to act cool again, but,” she paused, thinking of some way to better her statement, continuing with, “I’ll forgive you because whatever you are cooking smells wonderful!”
Another smile spread across my face as she looked at me with her bright, beautiful smile. Her smiles were contagious, and they ate me alive. Whenever she smiled at me like that, I felt my heart expand and contract quickly. Before I knew it, Aya had hopped up from her seat, grabbing my hand when she walked up to me. It was like we were running for an escapade, going off into our own world . . . which was in the kitchen. At one point, she giggled and looked back at me, which made my heart instantly melt.
She’s the only one that can do that sort of thing to me.
With small giggles of joy, I could tell she was overwhelmed with the food selection. Her nose discovered the scents as her eyes carefully looked into each pot. My eyes stayed on her the whole time, though. Watching her facial expressions always entertained me. Seeing her in a happy state put me at peace. Even if we had a little fight every now and then (because we’re both stubborn), I can’t stay mad at her. Like just now . . .
“Sugoi! I had a feeling you’d make yakiniku tonight, but . . .”
“Well, yakiniku is simple. I want to give you something special tonight.”
“But . . . you make me feel bad, because I haven’t cooked for you yet.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’ve been working hard and haven’t had any time off. I understand what it’s like. It’s not easy being so famous!”
“Mikitty . . .”
“Hey, don’t start sighing my name . . . Go sit. I’ll serve you.”
“But, Miki . . .”
“Go!”
With her small wince, I realized my last word was a little harsh and demanding, but she gets all worried over small things. Why won’t she just let me take care of her? (Ugh, I sound like a husband or a father!) Obviously, she wasn’t hurt by my tone, because as she walked out of the kitchen, her eyes remained glued to mine, showing me that she was thankful. Even as she walked past me through the door frame, she kept looking back at me. Once we lost connection, I began to prepare the dishes. Although I was trying to concentrate on the “art work of the food”, my nervous hands stumbled quite a bit. Why the sudden nervousness? This isn’t the first time Aya’s been over. This isn’t the first time you’ve cooked for her.
This isn’t the first time you’ve been nervous because of her.
But, we’re only good friends. I’m sure that’s how she sees it. We gossip about boys, sleep in the same bed, take baths together, drink together, watch movies together, go out together . . . That’s what friends do. Right? Why is it so hard to resist Aya then? I want to be honest with Aya. I want to tell her, but I can never find the words, or the right moment. It’s awful, and very frustrating. Though it’s nice to be together at least as friends, I selfishly long for just a bit more . . . Pull yourself together and concentrate on dinner, Fujimoto!
It especially didn’t help that Aya’s beautiful voice was coming from the dining room, interrupting my thoughts. She’s singing her latest single, I think. That’s clearly what it sounds like. Her voice is simply amazing, as it could soothe the wildest beast. I swear the woman has some kind of power over me, making me feel vulnerable. Whenever I’m around other members, even Yossi, I’ve never felt that way . . . And, Yossi’s the manliest girl I’ve ever met! But, that’s beside the point.
You’re in love with her, obviously.
Why is it so easy to fall in love with best friends? Is it because they know everything about you, and it’s easy for them to read you? I’m like an open book when it comes to Aya, except about my real feelings for her. I’ve wanted to tell her, but I . . .
“Miki-tan! Daijobu desu ka?”
“Ah, hai! Matte kudasai!”
Quickly, I finished preparing the dishes, bringing them out to Aya, who had made herself comfortable at the table with a glass of Gogo no Koucha. Her eyes closed, and she gave a good whiff of the fragrant steam that invaded the room. Once I sat down, she immediately grabbed the oyako-don and squeaked, “Itadakimasu!” For a few seconds, I stared after her, wondering if my cooking would kill her or delight her. After taking a large bite, she looked up at me and smiled.
“Miki-tan, will you marry me?!”
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I really enjoy writing from Miki's POV, yet . . . I think I totally switched their roles! Aya should be more manly, shouldn't she? xD Anywho, this was going to be a one-shot, but I'm not so sure anymore . . . It's coming out longer than I expected. xD
Topic: Thanks! for LAST NIGHT [One-shot?] (Read 4269 times)