Eyes of Blue
He loved her blue eyes. They were so beautiful and full of emotion; something he envied above all else. When she was angry, or happy, sad or content, he could always read her through her eyes. They beckoned to him, oceans of azure that sparkled in the light.
Feeling a tug on his pant leg, Inuyasha looked down into those blue eyes. Reaching down he tweaked a soft silver ear on her head, marveling how she looked so much like her mother. A warm hand rested on his shoulder and he turned to look into identical bright blue eyes, so beautiful and full of emotion.
How he loved those eyes.
Sunset
She had always loved the sunset. The flash of amber and gold painting the sky was a sight that took her breath away every time. She saw it at the end of her day and she woke up to it in the beginning of her morning. It warmed her spirit and cooled her fear; it set fire to her passion and soothed her worry.
Turning away, Kagome turned to stare into another pair of sunsets, a fanged tooth peeking out of grinning lips.
She wasn't so sure which of the sunsets she liked the best.
But she wouldn't give up either for the world.
Curse
He sat, his back against a tree, staring at the prayer beads wrapped around his hand.
It was a curse he had hated all his life, the one thing he had been forced to base his entire life around. He hated the feel of the rosary between his fingers; he hated the sound of the wooden beads clacking together in reminder every time he moved his hand. Above all, he hated what the beads stood for; that he had to rely on something so small and worthless to live on before he died with or without its help.
However…Miroku lifted his gaze to look at a sleeping form curled around a boomerang shaped weapon, her breathing light and airy.
It was strange how something so horrid brought to him the greatest of happiness.
Hands
She stared at her hands. They were scarred and torn, peeling and crooked. They were stained with the blood of many, no matter how she scrubbed, and she felt as though they were defiled. She had done many things that she couldn't repent for with these hands.
She turned her gaze to another pair of hands clasping her own, just as torn and bruised as hers, hands she had once seen enclosed in a purple garb with rosary beads wrapped around it. She turned teary filled eyes to Miroku, turning her back to the grave of her younger brother Kohaku.
All she could do now to atone was use these hands to save lives and hope she would be forgiven.
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