Author's Note: All in the spirit of Christmas, darlings! Merry Christmas!
A Little Problem
By like a falling star
Eriol had been at it for precisely two and a quarter hours.
(At this point, or two hours before it, had Syaoran been there, he would have snorted and made a scathing remark about how the 'great Clow Reed' was unable to perform such a menial task. But the fact of the matter was that he wasn't present, and so said snort was noticeably absent and said scathing remark was left unsaid.)
Still.
That did not, in any way, change the fact that the 'great Clow Reed' had been reduced to a blubbering, quivering mess in his highly vain endeavours at performing said menial task; his fingers were trembling, his hair stuck out at odd angles (from repeatedly combing his fingers through it in desperation), his cheeks were flushed red from exertion and his glasses were properly askew.
Having been unsuccessful on his thirty-fourth attempt, the very last of Eriol's constraints broke and he hurled a very unfortunate potted plant (which had merely been standing on the windowsill, minding its own business) across the room.
That settled it.
Nakuru stormed across the room to Eriol, carefully sidestepping the loops of pink satin ribbon, the crumpled-up wads of shiny silver paper, the litter of heart-shaped greeting cards and the rolls of sticky tape. She led him out by the ear, sat him down on the 'Throne of Evil' and dropped a telephone into his lap. "Call," she instructed.
Eriol whimpered tearfully. Without even glancing at the key pad, he dialed a number that had become familiar to him over the years.
"Hello?"
"Sakura!"
"Eriol, is that you? Are- are you crying?"
Silence. There was a small sniffle.
"Does it have to do with Tomoyo-chan?"
A pause, then- "How do you know?"
There was a resigned sigh on the other end of the line. "Because it happens every year?"
"Oh."
"Eriol-sama got Tomoyo-chan a pearl necklace for Christmas!" Nakuru trilled. "He says it reminds him of her skin. It's sooo pretty, only he doesn't know how to wrap it!"
"Hoee! A- a genuine pearl necklace?"
"Maybe it was a little expensive," Eriol said weakly.
Another sigh.
"Eriol-sama keeps messing up the sticky tape and tearing the paper," Nakuru chirped, "and he's miserable because he's convinced that Tomoyo-chan is going to hate his present, so he keeps banging his head on the wall," she declared.
". . . I'll be over in five minutes."
*
A Little Problem
By like a falling star
Eriol had been at it for precisely two and a quarter hours.
(At this point, or two hours before it, had Syaoran been there, he would have snorted and made a scathing remark about how the 'great Clow Reed' was unable to perform such a menial task. But the fact of the matter was that he wasn't present, and so said snort was noticeably absent and said scathing remark was left unsaid.)
Still.
That did not, in any way, change the fact that the 'great Clow Reed' had been reduced to a blubbering, quivering mess in his highly vain endeavours at performing said menial task; his fingers were trembling, his hair stuck out at odd angles (from repeatedly combing his fingers through it in desperation), his cheeks were flushed red from exertion and his glasses were properly askew.
Having been unsuccessful on his thirty-fourth attempt, the very last of Eriol's constraints broke and he hurled a very unfortunate potted plant (which had merely been standing on the windowsill, minding its own business) across the room.
That settled it.
Nakuru stormed across the room to Eriol, carefully sidestepping the loops of pink satin ribbon, the crumpled-up wads of shiny silver paper, the litter of heart-shaped greeting cards and the rolls of sticky tape. She led him out by the ear, sat him down on the 'Throne of Evil' and dropped a telephone into his lap. "Call," she instructed.
Eriol whimpered tearfully. Without even glancing at the key pad, he dialed a number that had become familiar to him over the years.
"Hello?"
"Sakura!"
"Eriol, is that you? Are- are you crying?"
Silence. There was a small sniffle.
"Does it have to do with Tomoyo-chan?"
A pause, then- "How do you know?"
There was a resigned sigh on the other end of the line. "Because it happens every year?"
"Oh."
"Eriol-sama got Tomoyo-chan a pearl necklace for Christmas!" Nakuru trilled. "He says it reminds him of her skin. It's sooo pretty, only he doesn't know how to wrap it!"
"Hoee! A- a genuine pearl necklace?"
"Maybe it was a little expensive," Eriol said weakly.
Another sigh.
"Eriol-sama keeps messing up the sticky tape and tearing the paper," Nakuru chirped, "and he's miserable because he's convinced that Tomoyo-chan is going to hate his present, so he keeps banging his head on the wall," she declared.
". . . I'll be over in five minutes."
*