A/N: short little fluffy things can be fun too, right? like puppies? i don't know. i want to write more for this fandom, it needs some love, seriously.

Title: a pretty little thing like you

Summary: "Demons aren't pretty, Nanami." But she didn't believe it at all. –Tomoe/Nanami

.

.

.

She knew she was being sentimental, and that Tomoe thought it was stupid, but Nanami really could not help herself. She liked to sit behind her god-screen, waiting for visitors on a slow day, looking through the panel where she could watch him work.

Tomoe spent his day sweeping the grounds, wiping down every surface in the shrine, carrying water to and from the scared wells, and generally keeping everything in tip-top shape. She was grateful for the hours he spent each day looking after their home while she listened to the occasional pilgrim pray. And she was grateful that she could sit here, discreetly watching him when she probably needed to be working on class work because the pilgrims were so slow today. But she wasn't.

She was looking at his slim body under his casual gi, closed modestly with the sleeves pulled up around the elbows so they don't get in the way. Though he was dusty from sweeping, he maintained an aura of absolute calm, his delicate eyebrows straight and his mouth in a soft line across his face.

His face.

Nanami admired the feline shape of his eyes, how they were a little narrow and tilted up at the sides, giving him a mischievous and even haughty look, even when he was doing something as humble as sweeping. His lashes were long and dark, framing those eyes like magnificent fans, forever hiding and revealing him in succession. He looked always like he was up to something, especially when he smiled—and his smile always somehow looked like a smirk, like he knew something she did not. In these ways, Nanami felt so small before him, but her absolute confidence in him allowed her to trust him as well.

Tomoe could probably order her to do anything—though she was supposed to be his superior. But she knew he always had her best interest in mind, that he would bend a knee to her without qualm. The thought made her flush, half-uncomfortable, half-pleased.

She returned her gaze to him, where he was arguing with Mizuki, who was laughing cheerfully in turn. She smiled. She liked their little back-to-back arguments; it kept things lively around here.

Tomoe now looked surprised at the snake demon talking to him, and he turned in her direction, meeting her eyes immediately.

Oh.

Her breath hitched.

It was as if he'd turned the full force of his beauty on her, and she had to blink to refocus her eyes. Kamisama.

Quickly, he was right in front of her face.

"What?" he asked flatly.

She flinched, fell back a little—he caught her wrist, then righted her, and took his hand away.

"W-what?" she stammered.

"That's what I asked. You were staring, Mizuki said. Is something wrong?"

He looked very serious, but not yet concerned. His face displayed absolute patience, as if he were waiting on some mere foolishness—or the world to end. He was ready for either.

"U-uh," and when his eyes narrowed, she spat out, "You're so pretty, Tomoe."

Now his face dropped, dumbfounded. She wanted to laugh at how adorable it was, the kind of cuteness that made her smile while stabbing her guts with a twinge of jealousy.

"Huh?"

"You're much prettier than me, actually," she laughed now. "I was sitting here, noticing that."

He was quiet for several seconds, studying her face. His ears twitched a little, rustling his silver hair so that it glinted in the sunlight coming from outside. She was momentarily distracted by the movement and subsequent sparkle.

Then he was shaking his head. "No."

"No what?"

"Demons aren't pretty."

"What, why ever not?" she gasped, flabbergasted by the absurdity. If he wasn't beautiful, then what in god's name was?

"Demons are terrifying," he said firmly, his eyebrows in a tight line. "We're powerful. We're strong. We possess rivers and turn back the clock and send miasma to disturb nature." He leaned in a little. "But we are not pretty."

But Nanami was noticing how close his face was to hers, and how it nice it was to have this view. He was practically leaning over her, both of them on their knees facing each other, and it would take absolutely nothing at all for her to "reseal" their contract. The thought made her flush all over again, and his sharp (narrow, beautiful, feline) eyes caught that.

"What's wrong, Nanami?" Though he was supposed to be "terrifying," "powerful," and "strong," he was still clueless as to how her mind (and body) worked.

But she only grinned, suddenly very clever.

"Smile your prettiest smile, Tomoe," she said clearly, slowly, and firmly.

As her familiar, Tomoe had no choice but to obey, particularly when she used that voice. Something thrilling ran up his spine, and he felt his lips dart upward into a smile. It felt a little unnatural to him, but Nanami's face broke open into a look of utmost happiness, and then it began to feel real to him.

She reached up with a small white hand and touched his cheek affectionately.

"See? You can be pretty if you try," she teased—

to which he responded by resealing their contract.

"If my Lady demands it," he said a little roughly to her pink face, "I'll be pretty."

.

.

.

fin.

A/N: hope this made you smile your prettiest smile :) please review!