An artist Sakura and a writer Naruto in a modern, university setting.
A love story in thirteen parts.
Standard disclaimers apply.
Enjoy.
I. Frustration
Scritch-scratch. Scritch-scratch. Scritch-scratch.
Pause.
Erase.
Scritch-scratch. Scritch-scratch.
Pause.
Erase.
Scritch-scratch. Scritch-scratch.
Erase. Erase. Erase.
Scritch-
She flung down her pencil and blew at her nonexistent bangs in frustration.
She's been trying to draw the male lead in her latest manga for the better part of the lunch break, but her drawing always somehow managed to end up looking like that loud blonde guy from her history class. Why? Why, dammit?
It was probably the hair. His hair was too darned spiky and gravity-defying and golden and anime-like for his own good. It wasn't even like he was bishie material or anything remotely close. As if. The thought of it made her feel faintly sick.
Though she did have to hand it to him, it took guts to volunteer for that first recitation. That was something she would do. Only she didn't. 'Cause he beat her to it. And he didn't even get the answer right. Hah. Though truth be told, she wouldn't have gotten it right, either. Thank goodness he volunteered before she mustered up the courage to make a fool out of herself.
Still, that didn't excuse him from messing up her drawings.
Frowning, she picked up the pencil and tried again.
Scritch-scratch. Scritch-scratch. Scrrrriiii-
Ah, fuck it. She wasn't really in the mood for drawing anyway.