Impromptu Anti-Valentine's Drabble/Drawble Night by naqaashi

In which love takes the little-seen path

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

Prompt – Chocolate 

She stared at the box of Cherry Brandy Valentine Candy. He had forgotten to take them with him, she supposed. Biting into one, she savoured the creamy wash of bitter alcohol and dark chocolate.

..….his passion…

But her palate tingled with the tart, juicy sweetness of cherries.

…….her vibrancy…

She swallowed, the bittersweet flavour swirling down her throat, warming her slowly from the inside.

……their love…

Swallowing a sob too, she flipped open her phone, then shut it. The chocolate was gone; leaving in her mouth a sour aftertaste, a reminder of his arrogance.

…….his turn to call.

Prompt  - Roses 

He sifted through the soil, feeling the texture against his fingers. Dry, he thought. But not infertile. It did not matter. He was prepared, as always, for all contingencies. Lips quirked faintly, he mixed manure into the soil, then carefully unwrapped the plant from its damp, mossy wrapping.

He took his time planting it, ensuring each delicate branch of its roots had a firm resting grip in the earth. As he worked, fragrance filled his lungs.

He stepped back to view the effect, nodding in satisfaction at the scarlet roses now entwined over her gravestone. And he felt her smile.

Prompt – Cupid 

Kagome stomped out of her boss’s cabin, up the hallway, down two flights of stairs, across the typing pool, into her own cabin, and flopped into her chair.

“The man refused to let me off for lunch on Singles Awareness Day!” she huffed to her secretary, who nodded understandingly.

 An hour later, her secretary came in with a message from him. “About Singles Awareness Day, ma’am…Sesshoumaru-sama wants you to have dinner with him, something about the new project.”

“So, depriving me of my girls-out lunch wasn’t enough, was it?” Kagome muttered, eyes sparking with anger...and interest.

Oh, stupid Cupid!

Prompt – Red 

He stood at the very back of the church, watching the couple standing before the altar, teetering at the edge of a future. The priest intoned the sacred, binding words, beginning the ceremony.

The red of his blood, burning, bubbling with rage and jealousy.

The red of the roses in her nosegay, as she stood with bowed head, misery etched in her posture.

 “…..speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

The red string of fate…

“I object.”

Prompt – Romance 

There was a man, ripped by lofty expectations of duty and pride.

There was a girl, battered by betrayal and dashed hope.

There was a common barstool, in an overcrowded pub.

There were words – harsh, unforgiving, and unyielding.

There was a moment of silence; options were considered.

There was a table at a quiet restaurant, where he took her as apology.

There was conversation – broken, awkward and accidentally touching sore spots.

There were glances – soft, appraising, healing the cracks.

There was, by-and-by, a sparkle in her eyes, a glow in his voice.

There was that cliché – who needs romance, anyway?

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