When the Firelight Dies
Our first kiss was the moment the firelight died. I'd never forget that night, not in all of my life. People say I'm an insipid woman, but if that's what they want to think, more power to them. I'm a kunoichi, I don't have the time to be thought of as weak.
It doesn't change the truth though, about how Shikamaru and I really got together. It's really stupid, not like you'd think it would be, but at the time I wouldn't have had it any other way. It was strangely easy. I think, that's the part I'll remember most.
"Don't do that, not now." I told him that when he held me for the first time against his chest. He was warm and solid against my shaking body. It was cold out, at least that was my excuse for the shivers that ghosted over my body, drawing it tight like a bowstring. I didn't dare tell him it was the way his breath slipped out over my neck, or that I could hear the rattle of his knives in his pockets clinking against each other.
Or that could smell a hint of tobacco on his vest, and for some strange reason I'd found that sexy.
"If not now, then when?" He had said to me, his breath cascaded across the shell of my ear as he held me closer still.
"Why in the hell are you doing this?" My question fell from me, hotter than the small fire in front of us. I was guarded, maybe too much so, but I had never once been held in such a way. I never would have allowed it by another man.
"Because I love you." It was worthless as a confession, so I took it simply as his reason.
I wanted to push him off of me, so I did without thinking. Without believing that he might be telling the truth. I didn't want kindness out of him, and I didn't have time for romance either. I just, I wanted it to just go away and no longer be between us. "Don't say things like that, Shikamaru."
I saw the hurt in his eyes, the hesitation that I had yanked from him. He looked just as cold as I felt, a frozenness that was not because of the warm air outside. The dim light did nothing to ease either of us as it flickered in his eyes.
I couldn't say that I was sorry, even though I wanted to.
"Then what do you want me to say?" He asked.
I didn't know. "Anything but that."
He bit his lip, running his hands through his hair, and I realized for the first time that he wasn't a kid anymore. I had a few years on him, just enough to always be slightly ahead, slightly more worldly, but the look he gave me, it wasn't boy's gaze.
It was a man's look of longing, of desire.
Never once had I been given such a gaze before, but, neither had I ever felt the inclination to notice one either. The years were starting to catch up to him and his childhood was behind him, our teenaged banter was too.
"Give up." His voice, so soft.
"Like hell." Mine, hard and edgy.
"Give in." His, warm and inviting.
"Not on your life, idiot." Mine, icy and distant.
Only the embers of our cooking fire were left, and all I could see was his shadow as he leaned in, his hand on my cheek, chasing away my defenses and breaking my resolve to ash amongst the retorts in my mind. I'd never tell anyone the truth.
I leaned in, and he pressed his lips to mine, and that's about when the firelight died.