And now for a string of "true drabbles" – pieces of 100 words. They're pretty easy to write, but for someone wordy (me), they're a pain to try to get your point across. Ah, the challenges of writing!

I must say that "Forever Sick" is the drabble I am most proud of! Hope you all like it!


Circles
#9 Button, 100 words

Mamoru rolled it between his thumb and index finger. Its smooth surface glistened white in the sun, a full moon out in day. Jabs of jealousy filled his mind, alternating with pangs of guilt; guilty because this minute object invoked waves of emotion inside of him, jealousy because this minute object usually rested on Usagi's chest. There, closer than he'd ever get to Odango Atama. His thoughts spun around in his head, like the circular button from her school fuku. Coming full circle, he cursed that she ran off in embarrassment after the button popped off because they collided again.

Beautiful glass
#27 Stained glass, 100 words

I know he's not like this, my heart knows it. If he was always so mean, so cold, so distant, then why does everyone care for him? Even I can't help admiring Mamoru-kun, that baka.

He's like stained glass: beautiful, but hard to see through.

When he pushes me away, with each "Odango" he hurls at me, I lose sight of the beauty. He purposefully dirties his window. When he offers his seat on the bus to the elderly or feeds a stray cat, he cleans his window enough so the real Mamoru shines through.

I want that beautiful glass.

Forever Sick
#92 Apron, 100 words

"You don't have to baby-sit me," Mamoru protested from bed, his voice straining. Usagi hummed in his kitchen, ignoring the objections. "Odan-"

Mamoru cut her name short when he gazed at Usagi in his black apron, carrying a tray with medicines, a glass of water, and a bowl of steaming soup. Smiling, she placed the tray on his lap before dabbing a warm cloth on his forehead.

"Let me take care of you," Usagi whispered, the strap of the oversized apron falling from her shoulder, revealing ivory skin underneath.

Gulping his pills, Mamoru wished she'd take care of him forever.

Fickle
#46 Time, 100 words

Waiting.

It took forever. Usagi couldn't explain it, but she longed for the last school bell and dismissal. It teased her and refused to move to the time of day she looked forward to most: when she gazed into his eyes.

Frozen.

When those steel blue eyes poured into hers, Usagi felt time stop. She wanted to lose herself in that moment for all of eternity.

Gone.

Faster than it started, their argument ended. Clever remarks flew through the air, and then stopped. The torturous cycle began again. Usagi waited for their next encounter.

Time needs to stop acting fickle.