Author's Note : This is just a random series of prompts that me and my friend unintentionally stumbled upon. Can easily be interpreted to any other pairing, actually.
Enjoy! :)
#1. Tissue
The second he announced he was leaving for the war, she froze. A second after he finished his sentence, her composure was starting to quaver. Three seconds after so, she was downright wailing. His heart broke at the sight. He croaked out some soothing words to no avail - she paid him no mind. He took a step closer and she took one back. Intending to lend her a shoulder to cry on, he attempted to reach for her. But she didn't want a shoulder. A shoulder wouldn't work. This time, a shipload of paper towels would have to do.
#2. Bald
She never liked goodbyes. He neither. She hated farewells with passion. He did too. But inevitable events were inevitable. While she cried her heart's content, he watched with sad eyes and dejected silence. He moved closer for an embrace, holding his weeping love as close as humanly possible. She was the first to pull away. And a long, soft kiss was placed on the once ponytail-covered head, now shaved for the purpose of serving his country.
#3. Sweater
Three days down and she hadn't been able to right herself up. Not since she found herself splintered on the tiled floor. The spring air was warm enough for her to live, but still she wrapped his sweatshirt around her form. After all, it smelt just like him.
#4. Lunch Box
His surroundings were nothing like the warmth of his home. His and her home. His cabin was cold and the sickly green color was nauseating compared to her bright emerald eyes. Let alone the food. And he thought her cooking was terrible.
#5. Water Bottle
Holding a plastic container the size of a giant's, she barked at the bartender, "Screw shot glasses. Fill this baby up."
#6. Write
He thought letters were old-fashioned. So he never made one. Until today anyway. With what little experience he had, down he poured his yearning to her. In hopes he would get to read a reply very soon, he dumped the letter into the post box.
#7. Frame
The tents were lonely and dark. The moon can barely shine through the canvas, making him doubt its existence and started to believe otherwise. It was a struggle to keep his sanity intact but a picture of the pink-haired girl kept him through the nights.
#8. Script
Waking up. Shower. Breakfast. Work. Home. Bath. Dinner. Bed. Repeat. She thought it was as if living in auto-pilot and all was jotted down on a mundane schedule. Her life was missing its spark and she was too miserable to notice.
#9. Red
It was all the color he could see. Left, right, forward and back, all red. Maybe he just went color blind. Or drowned by his own blood. Judging from the bullet nested in his skull, it was probably the latter.
#10. Vision
Ding!
"Coming!"
She power-walked across the house to reach her front door, opening it promptly without bothering to peek through the hole.
Stood before her was a uniform-clad lad, in his late thirties give or take, hat held against his chest.
"Mrs. Uchiha? It's about Uchiha Itachi."
And through her eyes, everything was starting to get blurry.
The End
Thanks for reading. Reviews are love.