Tohru was not a happy camper.
For hours on end she had been sitting at the same overstuffed chair, same cup of vanilla tea, and same room, with windows flung wide to receive cool spring air.
It didn't help.
Memory blocks were not common in the Sohma house. When they did occur, they usually struck Shigure, who would sometimes be in such a writing frenzy that he would drink himself into an stupor and come up with a romantic bestseller that topped charts around the world.
That only happened once, and Tohru refused to get drunk in the condition she was in.
After graduating college (much to her pride), she traveled back to the Sohma house to write. After all, what better place to write than the place she had spent most of her life in?
'There must have been something that sparked my imagination here,' she mused thoughtfully. 'I mean, I've never tried a hand at anything other than fantasy…' Critics swooned over her books, the worst comment being that it was too 'pretty'. Her books often described something normal, like a potted plant or the path behind your yard, becoming something utterly magical that made ou think twice everytime you looked at something. With a frusturated sigh, she watched as the wind twisted and twirled her papers, some fluttering gently to the ground.
Unlike most writers of her time, she wrote everything by hand. This often resulted in grumbles ("Where's page 43?!? Im sure I had it here somewhere!") and black scribbling on the margins, much to her editors dismay. ("I swear, sometimes your worse then Shigure. Even if you do turn in chapters on time, I can barely read them!")
Slowly an idea came to her. Most of her ideas came slowly, with every detail molded. It was Tohru's job to turn them into works of art. With a deep breath, Tohru leaned over her desk and started scribbling furiously. If she didn't write quickly, than the ideas would fly way, like dust caught un the wind.
He paused outside the door, his keen ears catching the sound of pencil on paper. Checking his watch, he prowled away silently. If he was right she would be done in exactly two hours.
He was right.
Tohru let out a contented sigh. Two hours of sitting hunched over a desk in fear of losing her ideas did not do any justice to her back. She glanced gleefully at the packet of paper, held together with a thick pink rubber band. Her editor would be pleased that she started a new book over vacation.
She stared out the window, unaware that a pair of arms had snaked around her belly. With a jerk(and a shriek from Tohru), Tohru found herself in Kyo's arms, his face buried deep into her neck. With a roll of her eyes, she pulled away from him and scolded gently, "You might hurt my baby."
Kyo pulled her in for a kiss, and almost indignantly replied, "You mean our baby."
After Tohru had gotton into a comfortable position on Kyo's lap, he put his head to Tohru's belly. She whacked him and said crossly, "Let me snuggle, Kyo , without you checking my belly every other minute." And with that she fell asleep. Kyo gazed fondly down at her sleeping face.
Words could not describe the way he felt for her.
Hallo! Since my old FB fic had lyrics to a song in it(can't put that up in fanfics) this is one that's sorta a version of my old one. Just revised and much, much better, in my opinion. Think I left something out? I can't remember, all my old files were erased.