Welcome to Seven Snogs: Roxas and Naminé! This little series is the response to my personal challenge from the "7snogs" community on Livejournal. The point of the community is to write seven fics about a requested couple, given seven themes. I requested Roxas and Naminé (I also requested Sora and Kairi, but that's a completely different matter), and I decided to post the fics I write on here, as well!
All of these fics are originally posted on the community, then added here, so if you want to read them as I write them instead of having to wait for me to update this, then I recommend bookmarking the archives page of the community, or joining the community and doing a challenge or two of your own!

The Sketchpad

Roxas couldn't believe it.

He was jealous of drawings.

Well, not the art in itself; he could care less if he was a good artist. He was jealous of the way Naminé carefully studied the page in her sketchbook before starting her newest project. He was jealous of the way her fingers would stroke the page, as if reading by Braille what image she would grace it with. And above all, he was jealous of the pencil that she held with such precision in her long, slender fingers. She would grip it tightly when she was struck with inspiration, sketching feverishly; slacken her grip as she neared the end of a drawing, like she never wanted it to end; rub the eraser across the page, back and forth, back and forth, muttering quietly as she thought about the jerk, the slip of her wrist, that caused the misshapen line or the imperfect shape. And what pained Roxas more than anything was when Naminé would lift the pencil to her lips and chew on the eraser. It was nothing, a meaningless habit, but for Roxas, it would always remind him of the one thing he could never have.

"Naminé…" he said one day. "I've had enough of this."

The blonde girl looked up in surprise. "What do you mean, Roxas?" she asked, putting down her sketchbook and pencil.

In reply, he grasped her wrists carefully and pinned them down to the armrests, kissing her fiercely on the lips. He pulled away just as quickly, letting the kiss linger in the air between them. Finally, he spoke.

"I'm tired of being jealous of the way your hands create art on paper, instead of on me…"

I hope you liked it! Please review!