Hey, everyone! Happy Self Appreciation Day! Get any chocolate?
Anyway, this is a two-shot. A thiefshipping one. Oooh. I've never, ever, ever, ever written anything slightly romantic so feel free to bash this into oblivion. Also, it's not very... romantic. Just saying. Oh, it is a pairing. I just can't write satisfying conclusions for crap.
Side Marik: Letters
Read it.
Re-read it.
Check spelling, grammar, punctuation.
Look at those details, aesthetics. Are the words evenly spaced? Is the card well-folded? Is the signature passable?
Put it in an envelope, lick it shut and seal it well.
Walk to the mailbox, one step at a time and breathe when necessary.
Marik stared at the white envelope for what seemed like an eternity, switching his gaze from it to the mailbox. Now that he thought about it, maybe he did spell something wrong. He walked back to the house and scrapped the envelope, his eighth one. Whoever had said "third time's the charm" was truly mislead. He grabbed another pen and another coloured paper and started to scribble furiously. Why was this so hard? It's just a friggin' letter!
Not good enough, not good enough. It's almost perfect, Marik thought, as he didn't even bother to wrap an envelope around the scrap he'd just produced.
"Maybe… I just need a breather." He concluded, walking towards the kitchen.
The first thing Marik heard was a soft engine, no doubt the stove running; then, a frantic prattling of cutlery, followed by a final frustrated grunt.
"Bakura?" Marik finally decided to cut in "What are you doing to our kitchen?"
"Piss off, Marik." Bakura, the white haired man currently struggling with an egg beater replied.
"Is this… chocolate?" Marik asked, walking towards the messy counter and staring at the confections, mildly amused.
"I told you to piss off."
Marik ignored Bakura's warnings again and popped one of the delicacies in his mouth, savouring the taste "These are great! Where'd you buy them?"
"I made them, idiot."
"…you're joking." Bakura didn't make chocolate. Bakura stole chocolate from little children.
"I told you to piss off."
Marik ignored him, "Why are you making chocolate, anyway?" Even though he could already guess the reason, considering the time of year, he still needed it confirmed.
"Hungry." The curt reply came, sounding a bit… forced?
"Why didn't you buy some?"
"No money." Marik sighed to himself in relief; of course Bakura wouldn't make chocolates for anyone. That would be silly. With his heart a bit lighter than when he'd entered the kitchen, he left,carrying with him a batch of Bakura's chocolates.
As soon as he got back up to his own room his spirits sunk again. The card. He just couldn't make it… not this year. He picked his large, paper ridden scrap bin and dragged it to recycling. As he once again made way to his room he couldn't help but sigh at the date:
February 13th
He'd just have to try harder next year.