rae (dokidoki_hearts) wrote in nanaxhachi,

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Newbie post+ 3 drabbles

Hi everyone! I'm pretty new to the Nana fandom, I've just started reading volume six, buuuuut I absolutely love it, especially the 7/8 pairing! So I was supposed to be working on my other fandom drabbles, and what should happen but I find myself writing.. Nana/Hachi ones?
So I thought this would be as good a time as any to say hello and bring a newbie offering, too :D Please note it's my first attempt at writing drabbles, I'm used to longer fic, so be gentle?

(All three are pretty much G rated, and under 150 words)

Prompt 6, Hours

They spend hours like this. Just laying there, watching the sun progress by the shadows it forms on the carpet, on their faces, their skin. Hachi has her head lying on Nana’s stomach, which is bare and smooth against the side of her face. She can feel the progression of time through Nana’s skin. It whispers through her veins, lingers lightly in her breathing. She can feel it slipping from her. Hachi has never been one to let a good thing go. Not this, the best thing. But in the end, she loses out to time.

Prompt 38, Touch

Nana wears her love on her skin, and loves it that Hachi often touches her. Her touch is soft and innocent, like Hachi seems to be. Nana knows that she isn’t innocent, but she still gives off this youth and naiveté that all these little brushes and gestures speak of a whole-hearted trust and childlike love. She doesn’t understand it, but there is something that soothes her about the feeling of Hachi’s skin against hers. It’s a subtle communication, the feeling of life touching life, a sort of sub-conscious knowledge that where their skin meets, they are connected on the outside in a way that mirrors their inside.

Prompt 37, sound
It was her voice that she first fell in love with. Even just speaking, Nana was amazing. She spoke softly for the most part, but not in a diffident, feminine way like Hachi, but simply because she didn’t need to raise her voice. She could all ready make Hachi hang on her every word. Nana made her want to talk about everything, just to coax more words from her.

On the night that things changed between them, Nana kissed her. It wasn’t the kiss; she’d been kissed by Nana dozens of times, but when she pulled away Nana whispered her name. It wasn’t even her real name, but when Nana called her Hachi, she made it her own. She kissed her back, swallowing her name, blossoming in the pit of her stomach and spreading throughout the fibers of her skin.
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