The Gift of Giving Gifts
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Just a random blurb I've been fine tuning for the past couple of days and finished last night. Not a contest entry.
[spoil]
Her friends giggled impishly behind her, pushing her even closer to him as he backed away. She struggled against them, looking forward, absolutely scared, but didn’t exactly refuse their pushing. He found himself pressed up against a tree, staring at her from a head or so higher, her face radiating such a heated blush that he felt like sweating. The look in her friend’s eyes as they eased their grips on her shoulders was devious, and he glared at them for forcing her to do… whatever it was that she was doing.
“Jeez!” She muttered embarrassedly to them, and they whispered over her shoulder in her ear, like an angel and a little devil in an argument that caused her to start crushing the blue box with green ribbons in her jittery hands. When he noticed it, after spending seconds looking at the argument happening in front of him, his eyes widened imperceptibly, and the sound of her friend’s cackles popped his eardrums as they saw the look on his face.
“Oh.” He said softly. He rubbed his neck. “Uh, whoever that belongs to lady, I-I think you might want to stop crushing it.”
She muttered, “Don’t call me †˜lady’,” like she always did when he called her that, and kicked the dirt. Her friends started to whisper again. The one on the left with a crown of flowers in her hair looked eager and happy. He smiled. She was helpful, the angel. The one on the right, with a single metal flower pin above her ear colored like a sunflower, was the true deviant, with her hand scarcely covering her snickering laugh and her eyebrows arched high and mischievously. She tightly gripped her shorter friends arm and didn’t let go when she tried to get it away, and nudged her even closer to the point that she bumped into him and he hit his head on the tree. The friend on the left had a hopeful blush with her eyes wide and they both giggled. He awkwardly looked down at her as she craned her head and held the box close, silent for only a few seconds. When she did speak, he barely heard her, so he asked, squinting his eye, “Say huh?”
She stomped on his foot like she did at the beginning of the day, and ground the tip of her shoe into his calf. After his wince she glared at him, looking angry, but her blush was evidence to the contrary. “I s-said I made to many chocolates, so I-I…” She fumbled, and her friends let her back away. She thrust the box into his chest and he heard a metallic jingle on the inside. “Here! Take it!” She shouted at him and turned, stomping off into the other direction, and then started to run away. Her friends gave him an amused look and snickered. Before they skipped away after her, they gestured toward the box, the back of it, where a yellow note had been crumpled by her grip.
It was coming from the inside and was just a standard piece of notepad paper with faded blue lines running horizontally across. The yellow was diluted a lemon and stained with some sort of liquid, which he assumed was water. He pulled the ribbons aside and peeled off the top of the box to find a small bag of neatly arranged chocolates of varying shapes and sizes, the most common of which were hearts and, oddly enough, crossed fingers. He smiled, knowing that it must have been difficult to make them and then immediately widened his eyes as he combined the two, plus the chocolate puckered lips that were scarce in the bag. He searched it frantically, hands shaking, and picked up the silver necklace that was wrapped around the bag of chocolates. It too bore a pair of crossed fingers at the apex of the chain, and they glimmered in front of his eyes, catching every glint of light and sun. His heart beat quicker and quicker as he swallowed and slowly let the necklace down in the box, and he moved on to the piece of paper, which he could already see was a note.
He picked it up and read it slowly, purposefully dragging his gaze across the top where nothing was written and gaps between words, trying his hardest to not see anything from his peripherals. He hoped to see invisible ink sitting on the little blue lines that would write out, “Just kidding,” but there was no such thing. He soon ran out of empty space to stare at and moved on to the text even slower than before, reading each word by the letter as if he was sounding out a word he didn’t really understand, which was fitting.
He saw her nearly illegible scrawl on the paper, tightly packed and loopy. Her hand must have been shaking, because every single line was curved and loose. His hand was shaking as he read it, his eyes becoming wider and wider and his breathing becoming more noticeable. She put her personality and habits into what she wrote always and the note was no exception. She started out by calling him a slew of names, the first two being “idiot” and “stupid” with both separated by a line. He could hear her voice as he read, as if she was reading it to him, punctuated by her blush that he had seen seconds earlier, accented by the shakiness that had overtaken her voice. Where she would stutter sometimes, her letters were slanted and slid off of the line in a diagonal fashion, and where she was angry for whatever reason the letters became heavier, and he could see her grit her teeth in frustration.
“I don’t know what to say!” She had written with a few extra exclamation points, and he could hear her loud and clear.
When she became quiet her writing was at its best, as always. She was calm, sober, and clear-headed. The curves that made up each letter was smooth and neat. The breaks between pen and pencil and the faded writing told him that this letter was a long time coming, and that she had switched quite a lot. She scribbled little drawings on it; a heart in red, an eye in blue, and a U in a very complicated fashion that showed off someone else’s drawing talents- a finger pointing at him from the page. All of this took place on the right side of the page and now made sense in context, where before it made his stomach tickle.
She drew an arrow pointing to the drawings. Another complicated drawing followed after. Another pair of hands next to a round head with two horizontal slits for eyes that showed casualness, boredom, and a shrug. But her writing became loose again and it was obvious that she was anything but.
“SO?” She had written, exactly so, with a few extra exclamation points.
He looked up from the paper with his face a few tones redder and folded it once and tucked it away in the box. In front of him, in the direction she had fled and her friends had followed, three heads poked past the corner, peering at him, and they didn’t seem to notice his stare or sigh until he walked toward them shaking his head. He heard a squeak; a choking, frightened squeak, and then a hiccup, and knew it was her because she always did that when she was anxious. As he rounded the corner he found her sitting on the ground, fists clenched, and her friends at the next corner looking at the both of them. He sucked the roof of his mouth, still shaking his head, and sighing.
She slammed the ground with her fists, gritting her teeth. “If you didn’t want to you should have just walked away! I would’ve gotten the message!” She shouted, and he blinked.
“Say huh?” He winced, and flinched backward, knowing that shaking his head had been a stupid thing to do. “No, you see I-“
“What? Came here to throw that note in my face? Give the chocolates back? Screw ya! Keep †˜em! I don’t want †˜em anyway!” She shouted back, waving her hand at him and putting her head to her knees.
He rolled his eyes, but laughed a short, awkward, but amused laugh. It was at her, and she looked up. “Your handwriting is really sloppy you know.” He rubbed his head and gave his best apologetic smile. “Uh, s’not what you think, really. I wasn’t shaking my head because- I mean, I uh, ah…”
He knelt down and pushed some of her hair aside. By the time her hands had come up to defend her, he had already kissed her on her forehead, and then her cheek, hesitantly. He pulled away, smiling at the look on her face. “You have really crappy writing, but I got the gist of it.”
He heard a camera snap followed by a rapid succession of snaps. The sunflower friend shouted from his right, “Oh yeah, two kiss bonus! After shot! Super blush and ending line! Extra points: over 9,000! A picture is worth a thousand words! Fade to black.”
END
[spoil]
Her friends giggled impishly behind her, pushing her even closer to him as he backed away. She struggled against them, looking forward, absolutely scared, but didn’t exactly refuse their pushing. He found himself pressed up against a tree, staring at her from a head or so higher, her face radiating such a heated blush that he felt like sweating. The look in her friend’s eyes as they eased their grips on her shoulders was devious, and he glared at them for forcing her to do… whatever it was that she was doing.
“Jeez!” She muttered embarrassedly to them, and they whispered over her shoulder in her ear, like an angel and a little devil in an argument that caused her to start crushing the blue box with green ribbons in her jittery hands. When he noticed it, after spending seconds looking at the argument happening in front of him, his eyes widened imperceptibly, and the sound of her friend’s cackles popped his eardrums as they saw the look on his face.
“Oh.” He said softly. He rubbed his neck. “Uh, whoever that belongs to lady, I-I think you might want to stop crushing it.”
She muttered, “Don’t call me †˜lady’,” like she always did when he called her that, and kicked the dirt. Her friends started to whisper again. The one on the left with a crown of flowers in her hair looked eager and happy. He smiled. She was helpful, the angel. The one on the right, with a single metal flower pin above her ear colored like a sunflower, was the true deviant, with her hand scarcely covering her snickering laugh and her eyebrows arched high and mischievously. She tightly gripped her shorter friends arm and didn’t let go when she tried to get it away, and nudged her even closer to the point that she bumped into him and he hit his head on the tree. The friend on the left had a hopeful blush with her eyes wide and they both giggled. He awkwardly looked down at her as she craned her head and held the box close, silent for only a few seconds. When she did speak, he barely heard her, so he asked, squinting his eye, “Say huh?”
She stomped on his foot like she did at the beginning of the day, and ground the tip of her shoe into his calf. After his wince she glared at him, looking angry, but her blush was evidence to the contrary. “I s-said I made to many chocolates, so I-I…” She fumbled, and her friends let her back away. She thrust the box into his chest and he heard a metallic jingle on the inside. “Here! Take it!” She shouted at him and turned, stomping off into the other direction, and then started to run away. Her friends gave him an amused look and snickered. Before they skipped away after her, they gestured toward the box, the back of it, where a yellow note had been crumpled by her grip.
It was coming from the inside and was just a standard piece of notepad paper with faded blue lines running horizontally across. The yellow was diluted a lemon and stained with some sort of liquid, which he assumed was water. He pulled the ribbons aside and peeled off the top of the box to find a small bag of neatly arranged chocolates of varying shapes and sizes, the most common of which were hearts and, oddly enough, crossed fingers. He smiled, knowing that it must have been difficult to make them and then immediately widened his eyes as he combined the two, plus the chocolate puckered lips that were scarce in the bag. He searched it frantically, hands shaking, and picked up the silver necklace that was wrapped around the bag of chocolates. It too bore a pair of crossed fingers at the apex of the chain, and they glimmered in front of his eyes, catching every glint of light and sun. His heart beat quicker and quicker as he swallowed and slowly let the necklace down in the box, and he moved on to the piece of paper, which he could already see was a note.
He picked it up and read it slowly, purposefully dragging his gaze across the top where nothing was written and gaps between words, trying his hardest to not see anything from his peripherals. He hoped to see invisible ink sitting on the little blue lines that would write out, “Just kidding,” but there was no such thing. He soon ran out of empty space to stare at and moved on to the text even slower than before, reading each word by the letter as if he was sounding out a word he didn’t really understand, which was fitting.
He saw her nearly illegible scrawl on the paper, tightly packed and loopy. Her hand must have been shaking, because every single line was curved and loose. His hand was shaking as he read it, his eyes becoming wider and wider and his breathing becoming more noticeable. She put her personality and habits into what she wrote always and the note was no exception. She started out by calling him a slew of names, the first two being “idiot” and “stupid” with both separated by a line. He could hear her voice as he read, as if she was reading it to him, punctuated by her blush that he had seen seconds earlier, accented by the shakiness that had overtaken her voice. Where she would stutter sometimes, her letters were slanted and slid off of the line in a diagonal fashion, and where she was angry for whatever reason the letters became heavier, and he could see her grit her teeth in frustration.
“I don’t know what to say!” She had written with a few extra exclamation points, and he could hear her loud and clear.
When she became quiet her writing was at its best, as always. She was calm, sober, and clear-headed. The curves that made up each letter was smooth and neat. The breaks between pen and pencil and the faded writing told him that this letter was a long time coming, and that she had switched quite a lot. She scribbled little drawings on it; a heart in red, an eye in blue, and a U in a very complicated fashion that showed off someone else’s drawing talents- a finger pointing at him from the page. All of this took place on the right side of the page and now made sense in context, where before it made his stomach tickle.
She drew an arrow pointing to the drawings. Another complicated drawing followed after. Another pair of hands next to a round head with two horizontal slits for eyes that showed casualness, boredom, and a shrug. But her writing became loose again and it was obvious that she was anything but.
“SO?” She had written, exactly so, with a few extra exclamation points.
He looked up from the paper with his face a few tones redder and folded it once and tucked it away in the box. In front of him, in the direction she had fled and her friends had followed, three heads poked past the corner, peering at him, and they didn’t seem to notice his stare or sigh until he walked toward them shaking his head. He heard a squeak; a choking, frightened squeak, and then a hiccup, and knew it was her because she always did that when she was anxious. As he rounded the corner he found her sitting on the ground, fists clenched, and her friends at the next corner looking at the both of them. He sucked the roof of his mouth, still shaking his head, and sighing.
She slammed the ground with her fists, gritting her teeth. “If you didn’t want to you should have just walked away! I would’ve gotten the message!” She shouted, and he blinked.
“Say huh?” He winced, and flinched backward, knowing that shaking his head had been a stupid thing to do. “No, you see I-“
“What? Came here to throw that note in my face? Give the chocolates back? Screw ya! Keep †˜em! I don’t want †˜em anyway!” She shouted back, waving her hand at him and putting her head to her knees.
He rolled his eyes, but laughed a short, awkward, but amused laugh. It was at her, and she looked up. “Your handwriting is really sloppy you know.” He rubbed his head and gave his best apologetic smile. “Uh, s’not what you think, really. I wasn’t shaking my head because- I mean, I uh, ah…”
He knelt down and pushed some of her hair aside. By the time her hands had come up to defend her, he had already kissed her on her forehead, and then her cheek, hesitantly. He pulled away, smiling at the look on her face. “You have really crappy writing, but I got the gist of it.”
He heard a camera snap followed by a rapid succession of snaps. The sunflower friend shouted from his right, “Oh yeah, two kiss bonus! After shot! Super blush and ending line! Extra points: over 9,000! A picture is worth a thousand words! Fade to black.”
END
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Xenon
FAKKU Writer
I missed your works. This amusing short summarizes everything I missed reading about. You tell such great tsundere tales.
It also helps being one of the few flawless writers on FAKKU I know.
It also helps being one of the few flawless writers on FAKKU I know.
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Ah, I was hoping I improved since my last story. All of those writing books I've been reading paid off, it seems!
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Weird. At the beginning, he was just as nervous as her, but then in the second half, he became more dismissive. I enjoyed the first half the most. Good job!
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NeoStriker wrote...
Weird. At the beginning, he was just as nervous as her, but then in the second half, he became more dismissive. I enjoyed the first half the most. Good job!Thanks, I have a tendency to do that when I stop in the middle of writing. It makes it really hard to get back into the 'zone' where everything is just coming at you and you can write it all down without a problem. Though I was trying to allude to the fact that he liked her too, and was anticipating it and pleased by the events, but unfortunately my techniques of subtext are suckish.