Written for Usagi and Mamoru: A Love Like No Other. Everyone is welcome to join. So please definitely come along. I'll give you a biscuit.
24. Dragonfly (403 words)
There she went again, flitting around as always. She reminded him of a butterfly… no better yet she reminded him of a dragonfly. Butterflies were nice enough he supposed but for some reason they were just too sweet and innocent for his liking. They were just so sugary sweet and overrated in his opinion. He reckoned that over time the butterfly had become a cliché.
But the dragonfly… now that was a completely different story. When he was a kid he had first thought that dragonflies were some sort of big, scary creature. Despite discovering the truth about the small insects he had never been able to completely shake his original impression of them. This girl that was constantly moving from one group to another, from the Sailor V game to the counter and back again, was like some sort of cross between what he had imagined the dragonfly to be and what it really was.
She was rather small and insect-like. He had often wondered how she managed to fit all the food she consumed into her tiny frame as well as where she found all the energy to be constantly running everywhere. Yet regardless of the soft, blonde hair and big, blue eyes that led others to believe she was innocently perfect, he knew her tongue could be just as sharp and scathing as it could be soothing and kind. He'd certainly been on the receiving end of her painful words enough times to know, though admittedly he did deserve them. Truthfully he wouldn't be surprised if she really could breathe fire (much like he dragon he had privately named her for) since her temper was hot enough whenever she was around him.
She suddenly halted mid-step as if she had only just realised she was being watched. Her long hair drifted down to her sides now that she was no longer in constant movement. She turned around and for a single moment they stared straight into the other's eyes. It was as if time had slowed down and he could see her lips opening, about to say something.
"Darien? What are you staring at?"
Darien jerked his head around to face his best friend Andrew and sputtered, "Nothing. No one at all. Certainly not the Meatball Head."
Andrew raised a sardonic eyebrow at the dark-haired man. "Right," he drawled. "Nice attempt at a subtle cover-up there Darien."
"Oh shut up."