|Hatred of Irregularly Shaped Fleece Blankets,Maybe
Author: crazyvegimab PM
Because they just so happen to be shaped ever so slightly rectangular. -Drabble, JordanEva-ish-Rated: Fiction K - English - Romance - Molly/Eva W. - Words: 435 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 3 - Published: 02-16-08 - Status: Complete - id: 4076287
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
AN: It's late, I'm in the middle of reading a horde of fan fiction instead of going to bed like I should, and I got struck by muse. Yay me. And no, I haven't forgotten about Bonds, I'm just in muse-less and in the middle of two plus very big projects. I'll get it done eventually.
Disclaimer: Look, a pony.
Hatred of Irregularly Shaped Fleece Blankets, Maybe
Eva hated those popular fleece blankets that seemed to be predominant in every household.
First off, they never kept her really warm. They gave her the illusion that she were getting warmer, when really over half of her body heat was slipping through the cheaply made fabric: body heat that could be keeping her warm.
That and they just so happened to be shaped ever so slightly rectangular.
Of course when Eva laid them out flat, the sides were just close enough so she couldn't tell the long side from the short side, but as soon as she pulled the blanket around her shoulders… then the difference was so apparent that she couldn't help but wonder why she was puzzled over it in the first place. And no matter how many times she picked them up, she always managed to wrap the shorter side horizontally across her shoulders so the extra blanket fell uselessly to her knees, and she had to go through all the hassle of fixing it, which, of course, messed up her night clothes and her hair.
Now Eva didn't mind messy hair or clothes, it's just when she shifted the blanket into the right position, it dragged her clothes with it, leaving said articles uncomfortable, and the last thing she wanted when she had her mind set on cuddling up in a fleece blanket was being uncomfortable.
But for some reason, Eva could be caught always curled up in a particular camo fleece blanket.
No matter how much she hated them, she couldn't bring herself to let go of the cheap, material rectangle.
Maybe it was because Jordan had used it often when he had last come to visit her.
Or perhaps because hints of his scent still lingered: the smell of fields of wild grasses, and the ancient musty spice of the temples of the Avatar.
It could be that ugly thing reminded her of his promise to return soon.
Or that if she closed her eyes, while his scent lingered in her nostrils, and tried really, really hard, she could imagine that the war fleece was really his loving embrace.