She's bored.

She sighs in frustration as she realizes she is bored.

She hates being bored.

She'll get annoyed and depressed, learning that there is nothing for her to do.

Turn around on the couch, and dangle your feet on the back, looking at the world upside down, shifting your perspective of everything that has passed.

She will let out small, discontented sighs, like someone pinning away for some shred of excitement in her life.

See him stop by, and feel his sight slowly caressing your bare legs, dangling helplessly by; Every now and then move them around; a small dangle here, a subtle stretch there to ensure he keeps looking at you that way.

She will place her head down, as the dismal reality of it all, the dissatisfied, gloomy and jaded daily occurrences of her day come down on her, rushing into her; like some sort of perverse feedback waiting to happen on her daily life.

Think back to how he saw you during lunch, the shy smile he gave you during fourth class, the way he walked that much closer to you on the walk back home, how he clutched you by the waist when you lost your footing on the train.

She will grow tired and weary, and will turn on to him, a mischievous idea marring her mind, she will see him busying himself to keep his mind occupied as well, his concentration being broken by the ever-so-often glances he gives her; veiled and shy but enormously heartwarming and obvious to her.

Shinji I'm bored.

She hates being bored.

Let's kiss.

But it somehow becomes more bearable when she's with him.

-----

She loves ginger, the pungent taste of it; the powerful, overwhelming smell of the spice will drive her into a flashback of loving memories of home. She still remembers the smell of the juice from old ginger roots and the tea that was made as her grandmother would buy the young ginger roots on the town market square.

What are little girls made of?

She remembers the faint taste of it in her cooking (seafood and mutton chops, chicken and sweet roasted duck) and sweets (candies and cookies, crackers and cakes), in the background of beverages and drinks (Ginger ale and ginger beer, hot coffee and spicy tea)

Sugar and Spice and everything nice.

She will sometimes stop before coming back to Misato's place by the lone bakery on it's way; every Tuesday and Thursday gingersnaps will be made and the smell will take her to place far, far away.

My hair is the color of ginger and your lips taste of it as well.

And she smiles when she sees him coming out of it, looking left and right before darting out fast, because she knows that once she gets home he will have a plate full of ginger cookies for her and her alone, topped with a cup of pure, black coffee with just a hint of ginger and sugar, tasting like sweet and spicy toffee.

You're made of frogs and snails mixed in with puppydog's tails but your lips, while a bit sour and nice, taste so full of sweetness and spice.

And when she sneaks to his room late, late at night, she will kiss his sweet lips deeply to savor the taste of the spice.

-----

AN.

oO…My oh my mighty; I have no clue what got over me with the whole rhyming prose that came over this.

I rhyme everything in a quintuplet tones; I think I might have seen V a bit too much.

But do not to worry my mates, I'm sure this too shall pass.

I bid you adieu, I say farewell, Long live the night.

For England prevails.