A/N: Is the edit document font looking different to anybody else? Eh, oh well. I'm determined to get these little Flash Bingo prompts as up todate as I can. Though that means I should be doing my non-flash more than this, but eh, I'm doing those too! This is for number 296 - prompt: prickly. I'm sorry, Tohma.


12. Unable to Please

Tohma rarely dragged his feet anywhere.

Even young, he mastered good posture and rarely lowered his head.

Only around grandmother was their anything else.

Only there, he hunched, so she wouldn't see him cry, so he wouldn't have to see his father looking away from him.

He didn't need to be reminded. He was a half-life thing, only still around because Relena was ill, only still useful because he was looking for ways to save her until his fingers bled.

She would never hit him, hadn't touched him since looking at his eyes. He'd like to imagine she didn't want to get caught doing something wrong.

Did she hate him?

It would be so much easier if she did. He could hate her then, he could hate them all. He didn't want this money, this large mansion where if he hid himself far enough away they wouldn't find him until he was frozen.

It would be easier to hate his father if he didn't look at Relena like she was the world, if they were both looked at like they were the same.

They weren't.

She couldn't help what was wrong with her, and neither could he.

But still, it was different.

So he dragged his feet forward.