Tired azure eyes lock on the cool vermilions of his soul mate, Iwasawa staring back before sighing.
"So, got any ideas?" She asks, tapping her pencil against her desk.
The raven-haired teen hums lightly, letting the nearly inaudible sound ring throughout the empty music room. Groans replace the soft purrs of his voice, ending with a faded sigh.
"Shinn?" Iwasawa mutters.
The soloist sits up straight, his left hand loosening the tie of his summer school uniform while his right fiddles with a lead pencil, giving it a twirl before holding it upright.
"You could write a love song." He suggests, his voice barely above a whisper.
"But love songs are a bit overrated." He deadpans.
"Though with a score like this, a love song seems like the perfect option." A small smile crawls onto his lips, favoring to rise higher right.
Iwasawa notices the slightly smug look on his face, noting the subtle innocence accompanying it. A yawn escapes her lips, so slow and so heavy that she breathes into it, her hand moving to cover her exhaustion. With a drawn-out sigh, she glances toward the soloist, who makes no attempt to cover his own yawn.
"Did you know that yawning's contagious?" A light chuckle escapes his lips. "Ya see, there's this yawn creature that lives off the atmospheric enzymes given out only during a yawn."
The serious tone in the soloist's voice causes Iwasawa to return the small smile on his face. She decides to humor him. "So, what exactly does this 'yawn creature' look like?"
The lead pencil spins around his thumb, sapphire eyes closing in contemplation as the owner bites his bottom lip. She hears him humming again, and she notes how the pitch had lowered by at least an octave (because his voice did always get deeper whenever he was lying), and how his eyebrows furrowed a little lower, a little closer to each other by at least a centimeter (because the hairs above his eyes and the muscles beneath them did always tense up and shiver whenever he was thinking), and his lips had tightened over his teeth (because the frowning twitches of his mouth did always try their best to cover the devious smirk of his plotting face whenever he was feigning innocence), and-
"Well... It's..."
And how-
"It looks like an elephant, minus the... uhh... ears and tusks." He swallows the lump in his throat and tugs on the collar of his oxford shirt, sweat starting to form around the base of his neck. Is it really getting hot in that empty, open music room, or maybe it's just him?
Nonetheless, he continues. "Its feet are more like stubs, and it's pink and purple, and... it doesn't have a tail either."
And how his words had split so easily in misguidance (because his sentences did always show mastery in the art of lies, just not in lying).
Her lips frown in a partial pout, her chin resting in her palm. "How is it that you can imagine something like this but can't even come up with a single lyric?"
The boy beside her beams unevenly, slouching slightly, his head titled a little ways to the right, and she contemplates how childish his eyes look - the hint of their innocence makes it seem as though he had never experienced brokenness and harsh realities and losing battles of one versus one thousand, but she knows.
She knows, wholeheartedly, how that brokenness exists, and how that child-like innocence had expired long before its due date, and how this whole 'yawn creature' spiel is complete and utter malarkey.
But she plays along anyway.
Because this boy, this cobalt-eyed clown, (her soul mate) makes her smile, her lips favoring to rise higher right as her hand moves on its own accord, writing the first lyrics of the supposed love song (and sighing after reading over it).
It started with a yawn
. . .
A/N: I don't own Angel Beats.
Anyways, I just wanna write more stuff. So, to help that, I figured starting a drabble series would help since I kind of always get stumped on who/what to write for. But I know this whole yawn thing was a bit weird...