glee ~

...or something very much like it.

After several months of not being able to write anything - I managed to write something. And am once again realizing how much my being able to write anything is affected by the music I listen to. Lately I've been listening to Cd's amd mp3s - music I'd hear many,many times before and just didn't make me feel anything...new. Then I hear a song on the radio (which I haven't been listening to as the local radio stations suck...>_<) and I get the urge to write.

Craptastic? Yes. Not finished? Probably. Most definitely pointless as my brain feels like it's packed in cotton. (At the moment I'm just delighted that Imanaged to write something that doesn't make me want to hit delete...and then burn the damn thing. I just want to delete it...o_o)







With a frustrated sigh Watari set his pen aside and tore the page he'd been scribbling notes on for the past ten minutes out of his notebook and crumpled it in his hand. He was about to toss it in the general direction of the garbage can when movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention. And as he was feeling somewhat...restless at the moment that wasn't necessarily a good thing. Not really.

A slow smile made its way to Watari's lips as he studied the form seated at a neighboring table, head bent over a stack of papers. Granted, the companionable silence they'd enjoyed had been quite nice but...enough was enough.

How did that saying go again? All work and no play...

Smile widening as he worked out the angles, factored in certain variables, Watari drew his hand back and -

The barely audible sound of impact as projectile met target was strangely loud in the quiet atmosphere of the room.

Grinning as his intended target’s head came up at the unexpected interruption, Watari reached for his abandoned pen. Ducking his head, he turned his attention back to the diagrams scattered across the table before him. He was busily scribbling notes and muttering quietly to himself about possible modifications when a shadow fell over his workspace. He finished the sentence he was writing before looking up to find Tatsumi watching him.

"I believe this is yours." Tatsumi said, holding up a crumpled piece of paper, eyes narrowing as Watari gave him a puzzled look.

“It is?”

Tatsumi held Watari’s gaze for a log moment, then slowly began to flatten the paper out, taking care not to damage it further. Watari sat back in his chair and watched patiently, eyes drawn to Tatsumi’s hands as they pressed the paper against the scarred surface of table. For his part, Tatsumi was focused on the task at hand, determined to -

“Oh! That.” Watari reached for the paper as Tatsumi smoothed out the last fold, fingers brushing against his lightly. “I was aiming for the trashcan...sorry.” Watari admitted sheepishly, grinning up at Tatsumi as he played with the edges of the paper absently.

Tatsumi merely stared back at him, unreadable emotion moving through his eyes.

“Watari…”

“Hmm?”

“The trashcan is on the other side of the room.”

Watari scratched his nose, gaze sliding away from Tatsumi’s as he coughed to clear his throat. “…I know.”

Tatsumi regarded him silently for a long moment, sighing at the look Watari gave him - equal parts apology and embarrassment - and turned back to his table.

Watari watched him, a small smile on his lips when he noticed Tatsumi shooting him strange looks every so often. Laughing softly to himself, Watari lid the battered paper into the back of his notebook as he went back to work.