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runicloreToo Good to Be True
Author: Amber Michelle
Pairing: Lehran/Sanaki
Fandom: Fire Emblem 9-10
Theme: 29 - the sound of waves
Words: 1295
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Fire Emblem is copyrighted by Intelligent Systems and Nintendo. I'm not getting any money out of this, just satisfaction~
Notes: Modern AU - and there's more where this came from. RUN FOR YOUR LIVES.
......................................................
Though Sanaki reaped the benefits of attending a university close to home until now - free rent, free food, laundry service - turning the keys in the lock of a new apartment, walking into the empty living room with its hardwood floors and plain white walls, made her want to sprint down the hallway, even though she'd seen the room she claimed just yesterday. Her sandals clapped on the floor, echoed in the room. Downstairs she heard the car door slam, and she imagined the curtains she'd put across the sliding glass door that she'd have to twitch open to see down to the parking lot. They'd had vertical blinds at home because her mother hated cleaning curtains as much as she hated cooking - so they had the modern alternative on the windows, and the frozen, prepared alternative on their dinner plates, and it was better than the food at the cafeteria, but not by much.
The entire apartment was bare and waiting for Sanaki to leave her mark. She would have to find a nice rug, or a few smaller ones to put under the furniture; they weren't allowed to drill holes in the walls, so she'd have to find some kind of adhesive for pictures. The honey-colored kitchen cupboards were small, but she didn't have much to put away yet - just a box of spices and a four-piece table set, and ten coffee mugs hand-painted with different scenes of flowers and hummingbirds. No food yet, no pans. Sephiran said he would take care of that. The counter extended from the wall and curved around - there was plenty of space for everything if she planned correctly.
She pulled her cell out and tapped a button to light up the time: five forty-two. Sun still slanted in through the glass door, casting orange light that faded into red. It would probably be hot on summer days when the sun had all afternoon to shine in, but it was only passably warm now, just comfortable enough she could slide her sweater over her arms and fold it onto the tile counter. The sound of waves was faint, but it came through the glass; when she looked out, over the balcony rail, the wide blue expanse of the ocean met her over a line of pines, shimmering like a rainbow beneath the setting sun.
Her keys rattled in the door and she heard it kicked open, followed by the tap of dress shoes, the rustle of paper bags, and the scent of peanut noodles and chili sauce. "You could have helped."
Sanaki spun around on her heel, a wide smile on her face. "But you're so much better at talking to women - I bet she loved you. Said she would've snatched you up in a second if she were younger. Am I right?"
Sephiran rolled his eyes, shifting a bag onto his wrist to pull the keys out. "She wanted to invite us on a tour of the complex--"
"Invite you." She dragged her feet over to crack open the patio door and smelled seaweed and barbecue.
"I told her you had plans for the evening, and I had a dissertation to write." He pushed the door shut with his foot, leaning against the frame to work his foot out of a shoe. He left them by the door and took the bags to the kitchen counter. Fisher's Market was printed in faded green across the front panel, and the handles folded in when he let them go. "Was that Micaiah calling when you came in?"
Sanaki sighed, stuck her tongue out, and went to take her sandals off. "She said Nolan has a free truck and Zelgius will meet them here tomorrow at three with your boxes. I brought an air mattress over today so we could sleep comfortably."
He started pulling styrofoam boxes out and arranging them on the counter, and she nudged her shoes with her toes until the points grazed the wall and the outward curve cozied up to Sephiran's nameless shoes. The brand was in kanji on the inside, faded gold. She wondered if it was a designer name, and didn't think he'd go out of his way to buy the pair if it were - it would be his mother's choice, probably. She sent him clothes all the time - and shoes, and leather bags, and briefcases. She sent vitamins too, and cryptic notes in bad English. At least she tried, Sephiran said, which was more than he could say for his grandparents or his father, and Sanaki wondered if her own attempts to speak Japanese sounded that terrible.
Well, then you'd get along well, he told her. Hah. His mother sent him silk kimonos for his robes, expensive embroidered pillow shams, and Sanaki could barely afford her half of the rent. It would be Sephiran's money that furnished this apartment - his family's money. He insisted it wasn't as bottomless a pit as it looked. She makes everything herself. She's a very traditional woman. When Sanaki expressed disbelief - she makes all of your clothes? - he told her his grandparents refused to let her get a job after she married his father. He wasn't even sure she'd wanted one.
She didn't think they'd have much in common at all. Sanaki wasn't even real Japanese - just the fake kind that grew up speaking English and substituting butternut squash for kabocha, the kind that didn't know the difference between soy sauce and tamari, or shiso and basil.
"Staring won't straighten them out."
She listened to the distant waves, to the scrape when Sephiran opened a box of plastic utensils, and the snap when he broke a pair of chopsticks apart. They would need a cubby for their shoes if he wanted to keep up this habit. It didn't matter to her, and it saved space in the bedroom, which was a bit small to make room for the closet and the bath.
"Sanaki, you know I didn't--"
"No--" She shrugged and left their shoes, flipped the lock on the door and slid the chain in place. "I was just thinking." She went back to the kitchen, gathering her hair at the nape of her neck with both hands and watching his eyes drift, first to the sway of her hips and then the flutter of her skirt above her knees. She draped her arms over his shoulders and stood on her tiptoes. "You are such a mama's boy," she said, pulling him downward. "I don't know why I like you so much."
His lips quirked up at the corners. "Not my money?" She shook her head, and his smile widened. "Not my looks?" She kicked his ankle, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, squeezing so she could barely breathe. "You're already a cut above the others."
She blew air up to her bangs, narrowing her eyes. "You're that easy?"
Sephiran bent down to kiss her. "For you I am." He brushed her lips again, coaxed them open, working his hand in her skirt to pull it up while the other tickled her skin. She squirmed against his arm and he pulled back, lifting a brow. "No?"
"Not in here." Her cheeks heated, and she tilted her head to the window. "Besides, the food--"
He pressed his fingers past the band of her underwear, drawing the heat from her face to her belly. "It can wait."
Sanaki decided not to argue.
.
Author: Amber Michelle
Pairing: Lehran/Sanaki
Fandom: Fire Emblem 9-10
Theme: 29 - the sound of waves
Words: 1295
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Fire Emblem is copyrighted by Intelligent Systems and Nintendo. I'm not getting any money out of this, just satisfaction~
Notes: Modern AU - and there's more where this came from. RUN FOR YOUR LIVES.
......................................................
Though Sanaki reaped the benefits of attending a university close to home until now - free rent, free food, laundry service - turning the keys in the lock of a new apartment, walking into the empty living room with its hardwood floors and plain white walls, made her want to sprint down the hallway, even though she'd seen the room she claimed just yesterday. Her sandals clapped on the floor, echoed in the room. Downstairs she heard the car door slam, and she imagined the curtains she'd put across the sliding glass door that she'd have to twitch open to see down to the parking lot. They'd had vertical blinds at home because her mother hated cleaning curtains as much as she hated cooking - so they had the modern alternative on the windows, and the frozen, prepared alternative on their dinner plates, and it was better than the food at the cafeteria, but not by much.
The entire apartment was bare and waiting for Sanaki to leave her mark. She would have to find a nice rug, or a few smaller ones to put under the furniture; they weren't allowed to drill holes in the walls, so she'd have to find some kind of adhesive for pictures. The honey-colored kitchen cupboards were small, but she didn't have much to put away yet - just a box of spices and a four-piece table set, and ten coffee mugs hand-painted with different scenes of flowers and hummingbirds. No food yet, no pans. Sephiran said he would take care of that. The counter extended from the wall and curved around - there was plenty of space for everything if she planned correctly.
She pulled her cell out and tapped a button to light up the time: five forty-two. Sun still slanted in through the glass door, casting orange light that faded into red. It would probably be hot on summer days when the sun had all afternoon to shine in, but it was only passably warm now, just comfortable enough she could slide her sweater over her arms and fold it onto the tile counter. The sound of waves was faint, but it came through the glass; when she looked out, over the balcony rail, the wide blue expanse of the ocean met her over a line of pines, shimmering like a rainbow beneath the setting sun.
Her keys rattled in the door and she heard it kicked open, followed by the tap of dress shoes, the rustle of paper bags, and the scent of peanut noodles and chili sauce. "You could have helped."
Sanaki spun around on her heel, a wide smile on her face. "But you're so much better at talking to women - I bet she loved you. Said she would've snatched you up in a second if she were younger. Am I right?"
Sephiran rolled his eyes, shifting a bag onto his wrist to pull the keys out. "She wanted to invite us on a tour of the complex--"
"Invite you." She dragged her feet over to crack open the patio door and smelled seaweed and barbecue.
"I told her you had plans for the evening, and I had a dissertation to write." He pushed the door shut with his foot, leaning against the frame to work his foot out of a shoe. He left them by the door and took the bags to the kitchen counter. Fisher's Market was printed in faded green across the front panel, and the handles folded in when he let them go. "Was that Micaiah calling when you came in?"
Sanaki sighed, stuck her tongue out, and went to take her sandals off. "She said Nolan has a free truck and Zelgius will meet them here tomorrow at three with your boxes. I brought an air mattress over today so we could sleep comfortably."
He started pulling styrofoam boxes out and arranging them on the counter, and she nudged her shoes with her toes until the points grazed the wall and the outward curve cozied up to Sephiran's nameless shoes. The brand was in kanji on the inside, faded gold. She wondered if it was a designer name, and didn't think he'd go out of his way to buy the pair if it were - it would be his mother's choice, probably. She sent him clothes all the time - and shoes, and leather bags, and briefcases. She sent vitamins too, and cryptic notes in bad English. At least she tried, Sephiran said, which was more than he could say for his grandparents or his father, and Sanaki wondered if her own attempts to speak Japanese sounded that terrible.
Well, then you'd get along well, he told her. Hah. His mother sent him silk kimonos for his robes, expensive embroidered pillow shams, and Sanaki could barely afford her half of the rent. It would be Sephiran's money that furnished this apartment - his family's money. He insisted it wasn't as bottomless a pit as it looked. She makes everything herself. She's a very traditional woman. When Sanaki expressed disbelief - she makes all of your clothes? - he told her his grandparents refused to let her get a job after she married his father. He wasn't even sure she'd wanted one.
She didn't think they'd have much in common at all. Sanaki wasn't even real Japanese - just the fake kind that grew up speaking English and substituting butternut squash for kabocha, the kind that didn't know the difference between soy sauce and tamari, or shiso and basil.
"Staring won't straighten them out."
She listened to the distant waves, to the scrape when Sephiran opened a box of plastic utensils, and the snap when he broke a pair of chopsticks apart. They would need a cubby for their shoes if he wanted to keep up this habit. It didn't matter to her, and it saved space in the bedroom, which was a bit small to make room for the closet and the bath.
"Sanaki, you know I didn't--"
"No--" She shrugged and left their shoes, flipped the lock on the door and slid the chain in place. "I was just thinking." She went back to the kitchen, gathering her hair at the nape of her neck with both hands and watching his eyes drift, first to the sway of her hips and then the flutter of her skirt above her knees. She draped her arms over his shoulders and stood on her tiptoes. "You are such a mama's boy," she said, pulling him downward. "I don't know why I like you so much."
His lips quirked up at the corners. "Not my money?" She shook her head, and his smile widened. "Not my looks?" She kicked his ankle, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, squeezing so she could barely breathe. "You're already a cut above the others."
She blew air up to her bangs, narrowing her eyes. "You're that easy?"
Sephiran bent down to kiss her. "For you I am." He brushed her lips again, coaxed them open, working his hand in her skirt to pull it up while the other tickled her skin. She squirmed against his arm and he pulled back, lifting a brow. "No?"
"Not in here." Her cheeks heated, and she tilted her head to the window. "Besides, the food--"
He pressed his fingers past the band of her underwear, drawing the heat from her face to her belly. "It can wait."
Sanaki decided not to argue.
.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 11:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 05:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-20 06:54 pm (UTC)I love that they are Japanese. Sephiran in a kimono is just too cute. ^_^ Also, the Fisher's Market was one of my favorite details. I don't know why. XD
Apparently I all I need to be converted is AU fic. And you say there's more...? :D:D:D
no subject
Date: 2009-04-20 10:02 pm (UTC)Sephiran in a kimono is worth drawing. Sanaki in a kimono and hating it (and picking at the collar and the obi and her hair pins) is too. XD
no subject
Date: 2009-04-20 06:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-20 10:04 pm (UTC)Anyway, it's nice to do something different. Thank you!