Note: If you don't remember, I've mentioned my other blog dedicated to my original story T.A.K.K.A. I love writing it, and I post all the chapters/info there, but, there is a exception. I, of course, ship my own OC's sometimes, and when I do, I usually write secret little ficlets with them. Ficlets meaning they're fictional non-cannon situations I conjure up just so I can write my couples in peace. :')
So, like I said, awhile ago I was absolutely consumed with writing a ficlet for T.A.K.K.A with a character couple. I've written two other ficlets in the series, and I'm working on the third one right now. The third one is the one I put up earlier today, and I thought I'd post the other two that came before it! They're shorter then the third part, so I'm grouping them together in the same post. Anyway, enjoy!
Part One: "Klipp"
"Two months. That's as long as I could stand it. Little by little, it started to get more and more irritating. I'd be walking and it would itch. Sitting, standing and especially when I was climbing into bed it would get on my nerves. I never had to deal with it before, but times had changed.
Hair.
It was stupid. The fact that it legitimately bothered me was embarrassing enough, and it wasn't like I could run to the store and pick up a new razor to cut it. The only ones for miles were currently in a combination locked box.
I twisted around in my chair and let out a long groan. A few rows down I barely heard Captain shift before going back to his book. That was the nice thing about him. He'd acknowledge your pain. Not that he had any idea what I was angry about.
I flipped onto my stomach and stuck my head out to look down the hall. He was lounging in the back row reading one of his bad romance novels.
He didn't look up.
I sucked in another long breath and started walking towards the front of the plane. There were a couple of mangos left from break fest and half of a cooked fish sitting in one of the antique bowls we'd picked up. They looked gross, especially the fish. Why we decided to put them in the same bowl was a mystery, but maybe we were just tired.
I grabbed one of the mangos and sat down at the table. It was mushy but I didn't care enough to actually stop eating.
Hair.
It was really starting to bother me, and that was stupid. It shouldn't be a big deal. It wasn't a big deal. Lots of girls had long hair, it was natural, and the hair tickling my back wasn't even that long. It was barely there. Barely noticeable.
My teeth were half-deep in the mango and I was already starting to feel sick.
It looked bad. I knew it did.
I tossed the mango back in the bowl and sat up straighter. No one would care if it looked bad. It was a fact that Captain couldn't care less how my hair looked, and he was the only other person on the island so it really didn't make sense for me to be freaking out about it.
From the back row I heard him shift and close his book with a quiet thump. I stared at the mango and kept thinking. He stopped beside me and stared with me through his mask. After a few seconds he turned and sat down at the table, saying nothing, as usual. He picked up his book again and flipped it back open to his page.
I eased down into my chair again and stared at him. I couldn't see his expression so I focused on his hands instead. Even if they were gloved, his hands held most of his personality.
One of them held the book open at base while he held the next page between his thumb and index fingers. If you hadn't been looking you'd never see the tiny way his thumb would rub the paper when he'd turn the page or how he always ran his fingers along the spine before opening the book in the first place.
It was relaxing to watch him. His entire body was molded into the chair in an almost smug way. All traces of definition hidden away behind his jacket and no special details to take away from him. Simple.
The feeling of panic in the back of my head shifted and as soon as I focused on it the entire mess dilated. A whole wave of paranoia and stress flooded in and the only thing I could do was let out a small sigh and roll my eyes.
I barely caught sight of Captain's knife, firmly strapped to the length of his boot and looking sharp as ever. He never let me touch it. I chewed on my lip and ran a hand through my hair before glancing back at it. It could definitely cut hair.
"Can you cut hair?" My voice broke the silence and it sounded awkward. We never really talked, and the sudden interruption almost seemed rude. He glanced up from his book and looked at me. I could've sworn he was raising his brows from behind the mask. He followed my eyes to his knife and gracefully picked it up and set it on the table, still looking at me.
I didn't look. In fact, I actually closed my eyes as soon as I knew he had skin showing.
The brief moments that his fingers brushed against my neck felt strange. I hadn't felt another person's skin in so long it seemed weirdly intimate, especially considering it was Captain who was getting in my business. The man walked head-to-toe in clothes all day and did everything he could to avoid being seen, so the fact that he trusted me to not look sent a fuzzy feeling down my back.
He pulled back and I heard him grab one of the water bottles from the counter top. The lid popped open and I heard him splash some of it onto his hands before coming back. He massaged my head and made sure to spread it all over, which was surprising because I thought he'd forget that part. I relaxed into his touch and felt myself loosen up.
It really was relaxing, and after awhile I just got lost in it. Little by little it started to feel less like a haircut and more like a massage treatment, which was fine by me. At one point he even seemed to drift towards my temples and rub some of the stress out, but as soon as I realized it he was gone and moving towards another area.
When he finally stopped I was starting to doze off just while he actually began cutting, and by the time I opened my eyes there was a small pile of hair by my feet and a lighter feeling on my shoulders.
I groggily lifted my head and looked around for him, feeling the sudden need for affection. He was sitting down where he was before, reading. I looked down at the pile of hair and suddenly felt like crying.
I wasn't even there anymore and they were still taunting me to the point where something that simple got me worked up.
From the corner of my eye I saw Captain motion for me to come over. I glanced down at him and took a deep breath before standing up, stretching, and walking over. I plopped down beside him and he handed me a book to flip through. I hated reading, but sometimes it was nice to flip through anyway.
"Thanks for the haircut." I muttered.
He scoffed."
XxXxX
Part Two: Fisken
"I hurled myself sideways and missed the fish by inches, my hand sinking into the mud while a wave of water hit my back. My shirt stuck to my back and it was the last straw. I whipped it off and hurled it back towards land before turning my attention back to the fish.
We'd been running low on food and it was time to go out and get some more. Apparently, it was my job even though Captain could've speared five from 15ft away and it took me 30 minutes just to catch one. While I did all the dirty work, he was on land reading and keeping a look out for any stray Crocs.
I growled and looked around for fish. They always gave off a tiny flicker because of the light, and if one of them went in the open it would be easy to spot.
As soon as one caught my eye I lunged towards it and aimed for the water ahead of it. Amazingly, the fish went exactly where I'd wanted it to, and the knife went through without any problems.
I flipped around in the water and took it off the knife while coming up. Everything felt much better against my skin and it was almost relaxing. I floated down and started moving back towards the bank where I could drop off the fish. So far I'd only gotten two, and it was a bit pathetic compared to the load Captain usually brought in.
He was sitting with his back respectively to me and I could've sworn he was sleeping if it hadn't been for the book. One day I knew I'd find him in the act, he had to sleep sometime.
I waded up the bank and walked towards him and the basket we kept the fish in. I tossed the fish into it and turned back towards the water. "Do we need any more?"
He glanced over his shoulder and looked at the basket before waving me off and shifting to stand. I walked over to where my shirt was and rinsed it off before throwing it back on again. The wet fabric felt gross but I knew I could just whip it off again as soon as we were back in the plane.
By the time we got back it was already half dry and smelled like fish. The basket had been wearing out so some of the juices leaked out on the hike back. I wrinkled my nose and set the basket down on the table while Captain latched the door. We didn't need to cook anything yet, so it was lounging time.
I walked down to my section of chairs and grabbed one of the blankets nearby. I whipped off the shirt and hung it over the lower-class chairs while wrapping the blanket around me and throwing myself across the chairs.
Captain messed around in the kitchen for a few minutes then moved past me and back towards his rows. I turned and watched him sit down to resume reading. I didn't even have to look to know it was romance.
He loved romance novels, especially the really cheesy ones that were predictable. There were a lot of times when I wanted to ask him why he liked that kind of stuff, but I knew he wouldn't answer. No matter what the question, he never would.
I rolled my shoulders and fell sideways onto the seat. "Captain, I'm taking a nap."
He tapped his fingers against his book in acknowledgement and then drifted back into silence. I moved up to my pillow and relaxed against it with the blanket. For a make-shift bed, the whole set up was surprisingly comfy.
***
She was out in fifteen minutes, which was usual considering her normal track record. Too many nights awake, not enough ways to burn off the energy. Such was the cycle.
He started moving once he was sure she was out. It almost felt betraying to do anything without her, but some things were better left to him.
He walked at a brisk pace to the front of the ship and grabbed the basket of fish and his knife before sitting down to gut them. When they were done he took the innards and threw them out the window and down into the river. Something would eat them. He set the fish back into the basket and cleaned his knife before going into his room.
It was the only place in the plane she wasn't allowed to go, and it was also where he kept his arsenal.
He always cleaned his guns, no matter what was happening around him. Keeping them in top-notch condition was what he was trained to do, but in the end the only reason he'd kept going was because it calmed him. The clinical way they had to be treated was reassuring, no surprises, and no unpredicted turn of events. Same thing every week.
He finished an hour later. The process hadn't been as relaxing as he'd hoped, but it was nothing a good book couldn't solve.
He paused. Farther up in the plane, Tera was making small noises of discomfort.
It usually started an hour or two into her naps, and each time he'd do the same thing. She had no idea, of course, and he preferred it that way.
He set down his book and walked out into the hall and towards her. Since he'd last seen her she had twisted around and curled in on herself, most likely because of whatever dreams she was having. Her brows were furrowed and her leg gave the occasional twitch, only stopping when he gently touched it and sat down next to her.
He didn't do anything at first and let her body realize that someone was close. The first time he'd checked on her she'd elbowed him in the face before bluntly falling off the bed. A combat reflex.
He smirked at the memory.
Once she stilled he quietly took a glove off and rubbed her head. She relaxed immediately. In some ways, seeing her loosen was more calming then his gun maintenance. Whether she realized it or not, Tera was always tensed. Always tightened up in the most obvious ways and sometimes it pained him just to look at her like that.
She sank farther into her pillow and he rubbed her temples and smoothed out her hair absently. Her breathing slowed down and he moved with her until his motions came to a complete stop. His hand stayed there for a moment before withdrawing. Her head leaned into the empty space.
She'd stay like that for a little while longer until waking up. It was always amusing for him to watch her confused expression when it came to her hair. It only lasted a moment, but he always caught it."
xXxXxXx
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