Author's Note: So... my first sentences/word-shots story. Super Ario and I have a challenge, which is to do one thousand words in word-shot format. Fun? I think so. :D
Second Author's Note: The quote for "Duty" comes from YarningChick's fanfiction Of Fur and Feathers.
Basic Stuff: The prompts are in italics.
Prompt References: "Holiday" - Operation: Jewels.
"Common Sense" - Operation: Interviews.
"Treason" and "Betrayal" - Operation: Diaper.
"Routine" - My KND story titled Restitution.
Disclaimer: Codename: Kids Next Door and all its trademarks, logos, etc., belong to Mr. Warburton and his creative team.
He always wore red, like a flag waving proudly into the sky.
Her anger made him think of thunderstorms, and he was like the sun, always brightening her world.
Though it was never marked on a calendar, Abby always remembered Nigel's birthday.
She had opposed other colors because they lacked depth.
Nigel panicked over the littlest things. Abby was okay with that, because it meant that she could take care of him.
"When I'm screaming that we're being invaded by tiny, kid-eating leeches falling from the sky, you're the one telling me that it's only snowing." As Nigel finished his speech, Abby didn't know how to react. Common sense, her only internal ally, told her to laugh because it was true, and to cry because he was leaving Earth - leaving her - behind.
It may have been against orders to take those babies back to the hospital, but it was against her maternal instincts to leave them where they were.
It wasn't her attempt to disobey his command that bothered him; it was the fact that she had thrown aside his trust for infants.
That was their routine: Nigel would make hot chocolate, Abby would bring things to talk about, and they'd lay together, whispering late into the night.
"If not out of love, then out of duty," Nigel would mutter to himself. This phrase came from his father, and it reminded him that his duty was to protect his planet - to protect her.
She handed him a disc covered with her cursive script and walked away. He listened to it privately, realizing that she had recorded herself singing for him... And all the emotion put into that small surface made him cry.
Abby pulls her hat over her eyes when she's upset, and Nigel adjusts his sunglasses when he's nervous. She talks with her hands, and he speaks like a professor. These little habits are what make them watch each other, unknowingly drawing themselves into an ocean of passion and heart songs.
She's a singer, he's a dancer. He's a writer, she's a painter. Their colors shift, whirling into a neverending canvas of light.
Britain, France, and Africa all united in a beautiful pair the day he married her.
Things are never the same from one day to the next; that in itself is what keeps Abby and Nigel's relationship going.