Shigure didn't know when, or how, or why, but Tohru had somehow become his muse. His poor agent, who was forever in tears trying to get him to finish his books, no cried from happiness. Shigure glanced up from his current work to see Tohru quietly set a cup of tea on his desk, and then scurry out as to not disturb him. He smiled, and went back to writing.
Tohru sat next to him, a blanket around her shoulders. She had stayed home from school because of a pesky cold, and Shigure felt it best for her to stay in his sight in case she tried to work. That was the only reason, of course.
"I should go clean the counters," Tohru said, slowly trying to stand up, her face flushed with a fever. Shigure pulled her back down.
"Now now," he said gently, covering her with the blanket again. "Don't overwork yourself." Her eyes took on a glassy look, and she coughed before falling onto his lap. Shigure put her hair behind her ear, and touched her sleeping face.
Tohru polished and shined dishes expertly, her pale hand wiping any stray dirt from the bowl she was currently working on. Shigure found himself riveted. His fingers tapped out a melody the table as he stared. It was only an irritated Yuki clearing his throat that kept Shigure from staring for eternity.
Yuki gave him a disapproving look, and then went to get something for breakfast. Tohru stuck her tongue out in concentration, and Shigure found himself thinking up a heroine with a very cute tongue. And maybe brown hair, as well.
Tohru smiled.
"What good luck the milk was on sale," she said brightly. Then, so suddenly that it surprised even Shigure himself, he grabbed her in his arms and kissed her. She dropped the groceries, and squeaked with surprise when he pulled away. Shigure didn't really regret his actions, but he did regret the milk getting sacrificed. Tohru stood in the white puddle, shocked stiff.
Shigure wrote children's book now. A few years ago, Tohru had stood in a white dress, and said yes. Now there was a boy and a girl sleeping on his lap, and one more on the way.
Tohru walked in, her stomach plump with the child inside, and laid her hand on his shoulder. Tohru was still his muse, he thought as he picked up his children to take them to bed. She inspired love.
Author's Note: Was it a little cheesy? Perhaps. Do I care? Not really.