Cute sensitive Wormmon. It's been a while since I wrote a digimon fic that wasn't frontier.
Enjoy, and tell me what you think.
Just because he was a Worm-shaped digimon, and was reading a book, it did not make him a bookworm.
'Ooh, what a cute stuffed worm. They must be advertising something.'
Wormmon looked up from the book of fairytales he had been reading to find two girls oogling at him.
'A book for a bookworm,' the other commented, standing back a little to admire the effect as the digimon realised he hadn't picked the best spot in the library after all to curl up with a book and enjoy it while Ken went to his classes. 'I think he needs some glasses.'
The first girl peeked at the story the book was open at, and Wormmon found himself sorely wishing his little corner had stayed secret. He did not want to wear glasses. Especially not the wide framed ones the brunette was wearing.
'The Fountain of Youth,' she read. 'This worm's got good taste. That's one of my favourites. I always wanted that when I was little.'
'Just don't drink too much and turn into a baby,' the other said, rolling her eyes. 'It is an odd place to put a reading advertisement though.
He had been trying to hide himself behind the books on the return trolley.
They weren't planning on moving him...were they?
'He'll look much better on the display on the front table.'
Oh no. He would have groaned, but the girls would probably freak out. After all, they didn't know about digimon. It wouldn't do to cause a school-wide incident.
'Oh, the glasses.'
'Right. I'll go get them. I've got those costume ones in my bag.'
And so he was woefully carried away, with his book, to the display table, surrounded by the latest booklisted books, and a pair of pale pink frames (the party sort) were put on him. At least they somewhat suited him, he figured, thinking about the crest of kindness. The colours were quite close.
But he had to endure coos and oogly eyes for the rest of the day until Ken rescued him.
Seriously, just because he was a Worm-shaped digimon who happened to be reading, it didn't make him a bookworm.
'Where did the term bookworm come from anyway?' he asked his partner on the walk home. 'Why worm? Why not…bug or centipede or caterpillar?'
'Bookworm refers to a group of insects united by their love in devouring parts of books and other documents,' Ken explained. 'People used that turn to start referring to people with a similar intellectual appetite who are rarely seen without a book.'
'Silverfish, cocroachs, larvae, beetles…typically the larvae of beetles.'
'See?' He was almost triumphant. 'No worms.'
'You didn't enjoy the experience?'
He had, sort of. But he certainly didn't want to repeat it again. It had been fun looking at everyone walking past and talking in front of him. And there had been music he had listened to. And a movie during one of the library periods. And he turned the pages when no-one was looking. But he was a little stiff after sitting still for so long.
Ken laughed, having read that all off his expression.
'I think you look better without the glasses though,' he decided, removing the frames.
'Oh good. They were getting itchy.' And his arms were too short to reach too.