A/N: A new drabble, with my deepest apologies for being so erratic lately; I seriously underestimated the havoc (oh god, I hate myself for that) that taking 18 units would wreak on my free time. But on the bright side, I have good news - the lovely and amazing Queen-of-Mediocrity has offered to adopt The Dance Lesson, so you may expect more of that story from her sometime in the future. Yay her! Also, this drabble is fluffy little ball of cuteness and neurotic!Fuery (also cute) rolled up in a cheesy pun, so enjoy!
Disclaimer: Shoyuu shimasen yo.
Havoc
As a soldier and mechanic, Fuery was an orderly, tidy, regimented person. He liked to have everything arranged, planned, prepared for – he laid all his tools in rows before working, he wrote down all his appointments in a notebook, he knew what position in the military he would have in five years. Havoc swept into Fuery's ordered life, a slovenly, careless, chain-smoking whirlwind, and left chaos in his wake, and Fuery should've hated him.
But in the few seconds after they started dancing in the kitchen and before dinner burned, Fuery thought there was something to be said for havoc.
A/N: reviews are appreciated