Fluffy. Short.
/-/-/-/-
Back and Forth
Eight sprawls on the couch of his suite in the hotel they are staying at, looking down at the forest beyond. He can't fathom why they decided to stay here, not close to anything of interest, but now he understands why. It's the perfect place for a needed break.
Seven sits on the other side of the couch, her legs in his lap. She has the newspaper open, and reads it quietly, while Eight bounces a ball against the floor that Five had described as "classy my ass." His right arm dangles over the arm of the couch as he orchestrates the movements of the ball as it bounces up and down, in air and on the ground for a brief instant. Seven hides it well, but Eight can see her clench his jaw and glance slightly sideways to meet her eyes. Seven smiles slightly.
"Do you mind?" she asks before turning another page.
"No," Eight replies.
Seven rolls her eyes and groans playfully before flicking her eyes back to whatever Earth thing she was reading. But then there is a gleam in her eyes that Eight distrusts.
Before he has the chance to catch the ball, the newspaper is on the desk and his ball is bouncing from Eight's hand.
"Give that back!" Seven immediately whines. So they said their "I love you"'s and all, but that gives Seven NO right to do this.
"Only if you promise not to bounce it," Seven slowly says, smirking slightly, Nine-style.
"No," he crosses his arms, then unfolds his ankles.
"Then I will just keep it," Seven simpers then tosses the ball from hand to hand, then shielding it by her telekinesis when she bounces it on the floor. Eight waits for a few seconds before breaking the telekinesis by a circle of her finger.
She lunges towards him, the ball is being held above his head as Seven grabs for it on her position on top of him.
"What, are, you, doing!" Seven shrieks in between gasps, holding the ball higher and higher, Eight desperately swipes for it, always one step behind.
"Getting my ball back, what else does it look like?"
They play for another few minutes until Eight pushes himself back against the couch, "Your arms are inhumanly long."
"Eight," she says.
"Seven," he replies, and just as she stares at her quintessentially with her gorgeous dark gaze, he lunges back for the ball. Seven wraps her hands around his waist, trying to keep him away.
The ball drops from his arms and before Eight can catch it rolls under the couch. There is a moment for silence and then it transforms into wrestling and then a tickle fight, the ball forgotten and Eight over Seven, laughing until his sides hurt and screeching "Get off of me!" as Seven exacts her revenge for him losing the ball. She's laughing, too, and Eight can feel it in his chest, bubbly, hiccuping, and his.
"Oh my god, am I interrupting something?" Eight hears and he immediately pulls Seven from him and eases back, nonchalantly grabbing the newspaper. "Oh my god, you so were doing-"
"Get your head out of the gutter, Ella," Seven says, cheeks turning pink. Nowhere near as red as his.
"Me? I was totally not thinking about that. Well I was thinking that you were- no totally clean thoughts. It's not like Five has given me the Talk yet or something. Me? Mind in the gutter? How can it be? It totally wasn't? What's a gutter?" Seven waves her away, and as she is descending down the stairs, they hear an add-on, "Just use protection or a con-"
"Ella!" Seven shrieks, Eight hides laughter.
"Okay! I'm gone! Left you! In tranguil- peace!"
As soon as she is in earshot, Eight bursts into laughter, and Seven can't keep her death glare up for long enough, and she joins him as well.
In the midst of giggles, both his and Seven's, he picks up the drawing Seven was working on before.
"This is really nice," he says.
"Not yet," Seven sighs. "But it will be."