My fist fanfic, so please tell me what you think :) reviews would really help
Apologizes for any mistakes
**For the sake of humanity and all Skip Beat fans I do not own Skip Beat**
The setting sun shone its colors through the vast windows, the heavy curtains being pushed aside.
The light skipped from furniture to furniture making for a glittering scene.
The big room was artfully furnished with nary a thing out of place, even the haphazardly thrown coat on the couch seemed to belong.
It was not an unwelcome room, for there were signs of warmth. Various pictures were dispersed about the room but not in a suffocating manner. The furniture itself was placed in such a way that one felt peace and calm when in the room.
A speck of dust could not be found in the room, even if a mother-in-law searched day and night.
The area that contained any form of a mess was the area closed off by a vibrant play pen, near the hallway.
Toys lay scattered about and a blanket deemed most adorable enough for the toddler by the mother, grandfather, and grandmother lay crumpled on the floor.
Sitting by and clutching the corner of said blanket was a toddler of one year and three months, whose entire concentration was being paid to the offensive play pen. The toys which had been carefully selected after hours of debate much to the annoyance of the grandmother were forgotten.
His golden eyes glint as the door of the play pen catches his eyes.
Gather his energy he pushes himself of the ground and stands up on his two pudgy feet with great effort.
The blanket he leaves on the plush carpet as he walks to the door.
He mumbles an incoherent insult that only he is likely to understand, as he approaches the fence that reaches his petit shoulders.
Grasping the edge he leans over and looks down and then glances at the vast territory that is closed off too him. His onyx wavy locks give in to gravity as they fall about his cherubic face.
He tries shaking the colorful play pen in frustration but nothing gives.
His chubby porcelain hand reaches down to the lock, surprisingly with a small jiggle it opens up. Using both his hands he shoves the door open and pads through smiling happily. He is the king of the room; nothing can get in his way now.
He pauses momentarily to pick his target; the designer bag sitting on the glass coffee table is in his zone.
With determination he moves as fast as his recently found ability of walking can take him.
He makes a delightful picture, power walking on the plush carpet in knee length shorts and a t-shirt. Both of which were placed on his body in the morning by his father after much struggling and crying.
It is a rare occasion indeed that his first morning outfit has not been discarded due to stains and such.
He giggles in glee when he reaches the bag, that must have cost a small fortune, not that he knows.
He pulls the bag towards him and drags it across the table so it finally falls with a soft thump on the floor.
He squats down, without letting any part of his body touch the ground save for his feet, and peers sideways into the bags opening.
Darkness and shadowed objects meet his gaze.
He finally plops himself down for better view and a better access. His arm shoots out and grabs the first thing it touches, an eight inch wallet that appears to be just as expensive as the bag.
He shakes the object with both hands and hears muffled jiggling. He brings the wallet to his ear and listens for more of the musical sound.
Hearing absolute silence, save for the soft music and various sounds coming from the kitchen, he brings the wallet away from his ear and scans it again. In frustration he throws the wallet away, causing it to click open. He stares at it for a moment and crawls to it.
He pushes the flap open and is excited to see a picture of a familiar woman staring back at him through the clear plastic covering. He touches her face babbling joyously.
"Mama" he says pointing to the picture, he looks at the kitchen and repeats the word still pointing to the picture.
He moves on the other distractions that lay in the wallet, namely the colorful paper that has now caught his attention. He pulls one piece out and examines it. In a matter of seconds the colorful paper with the number 1000 written on the corners is in his mouth.
Disliking the taste he spits the dreadful paper out of his mouth. The slobbered and teeth marked paper lands on the carpet.
Pulling the hard plastic cards out of their slots he examines each one, realizing their insignificance he casts them onto the carpet.
The only cards he keeps are the ones with the picture of the beautiful lady on them.
He crawls back to the bag, shaking his diapered butt in the process, the pictured cards still in his hands.
He sits up again and brings the bag closer to him, and peers inside once again. He takes out the thin book and heaves it behind him, along with the large brown envelope.
The zipper on the side snares his attention. He reaches down and tries yanking it to wrong side, realizing that it will not open after many tries he yanks in the other direction. To his eagerness it moves slightly, but not enough to put his small fingers in. He yanks some more and gets it to open half way, satisfied he puts his hands in and grabs what's inside.
Out comes a small pouch in his fingers.
Curiosity gets the best of him as he drops the pictured cards that are in his other hand and tries to open the pouch in front of him.
When it does not open he bites the cloth in hopes of seeing what's inside.
The cloth is too strong for his baby teeth and whatever is inside is blocking his teeth from getting a good grasp.
Accidentally his stubby finger pushes the metal clasp and the pouch opens.
Inside is a purplish blue stone that immediately gets dumped into his hands.
His eyes expand in awe and wonder. The last ray of sunlight glistens the stone making him gurgle gleefully. He touches the stone with his fingers and hesitantly wraps them around it; hiding it pathetically in his small hands.
It's smooth and again in honor of examination he plops it in his mouth.
Unlike the paper bill and the cards the rock really has no taste.
Realizing that he's not going anywhere with the biting he takes the stone out of his mouth and gets up on his feet again.
He walks around the room trying to find something to use but nothing significant is within his reach, no doubt his mother's doing.
The sun has finally set and the lamps that were opened before bathe the room in a dim light.
He rambles along with the stone clenched in his hands.
His feet lead him back to the playpen. He walks back in and picks up the heaviest toy he has, an airplane the size of his forearm.
He walks to the hallway that is not carpeted and sits down. He places the stone gingerly on the marbled floor and expertly takes the airplane and in one full swing attacks the stone unmercifully.
The sound echoes through the hallway and out.
He peeks under the plane to see the stone unchanged.
He furrows his eyebrows and tries for another strike.
Just as he brings the plane down again a woman in an apron comes out from the kitchen due to the noise.
"Sano?" she questions but her voice is overruled by the meeting of the plane and the rock.
He slowly removes the plane upward and the woman shrieks.
"COORRNN!"
Catching the toddler off guard he drops the plane in surprise. The black haired beauty runs to the stone as the boy stares on. She sits down elegantly even in her time of distress.
The woman's golden eyes tear up as she delicately picks up the blue stone. As she picks it up a small chip crumbles to the ground. Upon hearing that little clink her tears run down in an avalanche.
"Coooorrrrnnnn! Noooooo!" she cries out in pain. She murmurs in-cohesive words through her crying.
The toddler looks on with worried eyes, to see his strong mother crying freely is perturbing and he finally crawls into her lap when he has had enough.
"Mama?" he questions in a low whisper as he tries to cup her tear stained cheek.
She sniffs and looks down at him. His eyes are overflowing with unshed tears, which cause the mother to smother him in a hug and continue weeping as she holds both the crying child and the stone.
Thus Kuon finds not one but two pairs of teary golden eyes watching him from the hallway floor when he enters the foyer ten minutes later.
Now Kuon would like to tell the dear readers that he is shocked to see his wife crying while holding his son and the much treasured stone he had given her when he was 10, but then he would be completely and utterly lying.
Thanks to all those who read, reviewed, or who favorite-ed this story! ^_^