Hello again, everyone!:D Here is my latest update, I'm sorry it took me so long but I just didn't have any inspiration.:(

I'm sorry if these drabbles seem a bit vague –I'm sorta getting back into writing Fanfiction (and writing in general, haha XD), and I wanted to experiment with some new styles.:)

The third drabble is absolutely terrible –it's supposed to take place during the Miss Power movie (as is the first drabble, but it's more about her new powers than anything else)- but it came off as horrid and I sorta gave up as a result. Sorry about that!XD

I hope you enjoy, nonetheless!:D

Disclaimer: NO. NOT YET. BUT SOON.

-x-x-x-x-

She's leaning on the windowsill now, watching the night seep through the few remaining rays of sunlight.

Sky is red now, cold air dances on her skin. She likes the way it feels against her cheeks, it makes her feel brave; and almost without thinking she purses her lips, breathes out.

The air that issues from her mouth is colder than ice.

It forms into a bit of a cloud in front of her, and she lets another puff of breath leave her lips to join it; she's focusing now, pressing the cold into the air and winding it together with a willpower she forgets about sometimes.

But now it's solidified into a sort of fluttering icy diamond, it flickers in her vision and something is whispering in her head to stop.

She doesn't.

There's no one here to see.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'

I don't want to say I was right, but I was.

It wasn't going to work, maybe I knew that from the start –I probably did, just didn't want to admit it.

He loved Violet all along, and she loved him. I can't believe I thought I had a hope, a prayer, that he'd turn back to me the moment she'd left us alone –that his eyes would remain fixed on me for once.

...I think I've bitten my lip –there's blood against my teeth, iron in my throat. Might as well blame him for that, too –he's responsible for this disaster in the first place.

Why didn't he tell me that he wanted her? Maybe it would have hurt less, if he'd come out and told me right away instead of hiding behind those foolish little reasonings he called loving me. If he'd just said he was wrong, maybe I wouldn't be this way.

Better go rinse this taste out of my mouth, I hate feeling like I'm bleeding from the inside out. Expressions should only go so far.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'

Huggy was watching her. WordGirl could feel his eyes on the back of her neck, nervously eyeing her with an air she didn't like, but she didn't look up from the book. She didn't have the time to.

"…what is it?" she asked after a moment, and the sensation of her sidekick's gaze flicked away at the sudden sound.

"Nothing…" he squeaked. "Just… I was thinking..."

"What, Huggy?" She slipped her finger into the space between the pages, and snapped the cover shut. "Is something wrong?"

WordGirl could hear the bite in her voice –she'd had enough experience with that over the past few days- and something in her stomach writhed in guilt. She'd hurt him too much recently.

Captain Huggyface opened his mouth, paused, tried again. "Just… You're not…"

She turned completely to face him, tried to look as apologetic as she could without betraying her anxiety. "What is it?" She asked again.

"You're not… you're not mad at me?"

WordGirl blinked at that. "Mad?"

Huggy shrugged, waved a hand around to indicate the room. "About me hiding all of this?" He adjusted his helmet nervously.

Her heart swelled. He was worried about that? After everything she'd said to him, after this whole fiasco had nearly destroyed what was left of their friendship?

"Of course not, Huggy," she managed after a second. "I'm not mad at all! Don't be silly."

His eyes lit up.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'

The Butcher likes the moments when they're not fighting, when they just talk as though they're friends.

When she sighs, sinks down onto the ground next to him amidst a sea of meat and rubble, and they lean against the wall and complain about the world as though they've both got off the night shift at work and can't keep quiet any more.

Sometimes she laughs at his words, sometimes she sympathizes, sometimes she just sits quietly and listens to him grumble about his problems. He does his best to return the favor, because he likes the feeling of commiserating with someone, because he wants to be able to show that he can be just as helpful.

And because he's terribly lonely, and sometimes he thinks maybe she is, too.

He'd like to have friends, she must know this –maybe that's why she's so quick to drop her guard whenever he displays even a hint of a complaint; and maybe that's why he exploits that weakness so much, to prove that she means it.

He'd like to think that she is his friend, even if it's for a moment.

Even if she is the enemy.

-x-x-x-x-

On a very important note: Next chapter will be the last. I had to bring this series to a close evenutally, but I'm not completely finished with it yet. So the next update will be the last.:)

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!:D