Usagi and Mamoru
Signs of Affection
100 Drabbles
Thirty-Seven – Pocketknife
Words – 609
Something important was missing from his life, Mamoru realized. Recognition of this need brought it into full light, aching and desperate. He would give anything to feel that warmth spreading through him again. Desire for that taste, that smell which lingered in his memory, just on the edge of perception, washed through him. There was only one person who could give Mamoru what he needed, and Motoki was nowhere to be found.
"Motoki!" Mamoru growled, drawing the stares of every person in the Crown Game Center, "Get over here and give me my coffee!"
A muffled grunt drifted from the back room, followed by a loud crashing. The dissheveled head of Mamoru's friend emerged through the storeroom doors and, with an uncharacteristic scowl, he muttered, "Look, both of my coworkers called in sick today. I'm trying to do everything by myself. If you want your coffee you'll have to come back here and help me."
Mamoru was always willing to help his friend when Motoki needed, the incentive of coffee only caused him to move all the faster. "What's the problem?" he asked, stepping into the dimly lit storeroom.
In response, Motoki pointed at a box which was labeled "Fine Coffee Grounds" and then crossed his arms and huffed. Upon closer examination, Mamoru discovered that whoever had packed the box had been extremely liberal with the tape. That was it? Shooting his friend a disgusted look, Mamoru bent to tear open the box top.
He discovered that the packer was not only liberal with the tape but did not seem to care whether it faced inwards or out. In addition, they seemed to have used titanium laced tape because it absolutely refused to tear no matter how much pressure the dark-haired man put on it. After wrestling with the box for a good ten minutes, trying very hard to ignore the amused grin on Motoki's face, Mamoru was no closer to openning the dreaded package.
With a gutteral growl, Mamoru hurled the box at the opposite wall. Unfortunately he had managed to become firmly stuck to the box himself and only succeeded in causing himself to crash to the ground, the box on top of him.
A moment later the door to the storeroom opened again and Usagi entered, wide eyed. "I heard a noise..." she said, trailing off when she saw Mamoru lying awkwardly on the floor and giving her a death glare.
She turned to look questioningly at Motoki who, with much effort, managed to tell the story with a straight face. Usagi snorted, "Is that all?" and, giving the two men a disgusted look, walked over to Mamoru and the box. Reaching into her bookbag she pulled out a pocketknife. With a practiced flick of her wrist she revealed a long, wicked blade which easily sliced away the tape that held the box closed.
Flicking the blade away with a soft click, Usagi smirked at the men and bounced back out of the storeroom.
Mamoru and Motoki exchanged a stupefied look. Mamoru leapt to his feet, intent on finding out just why the sweet and innocent Odango-atama had such a fierce pocketknife on her person. He came down with another crash, only then realizing he was still stuck to the box.
xXx
AN-
I couldn't figure out what to do with this theme... So I did something I don't usually do and read what everyone else had posted on it. Usually I read them all after I write my drabble. I noticed that everyone had given the pocketknife to Mamoru and the story wrote itself. )