Here's the third installment in The Language of Flowers series.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
A red rose means true love.
A red rose. Sakura stares blankly down at it. It is night in Suna; there is a chill in the air, and the wind that the country was named for blows lightly through her carnation hair. She is sitting on the roof of the Kazekage's compound, her legs dangling lazily off of the side.
As he hands the rose to her, and sits down beside her, Sakura examines it more closely. Heaven only knows where he found a rose in Sunagakure. The first thought that crosses her mind is that it is artificial.
Sakura removes her gloves and fingers the petals. No, it is real. The petals feel like luscious satin, thrilling to the touch of her soft fingertips. She lifts the rose to her face, drinking in the sweet perfume of the rose, light and achingly sweet. Her hand brushes over a thorn.
"It wouldn't seem like a real rose if there weren't thorns," Gaara explains, slightly uncomfortable. Sakura understands; gestures like this aren't easy for him. But he always makes an effort, and that it's for her makes Sakura's throat catch in joy.
"I agree." Sakura nods, closing her eyes and smiling. The wind plays softly over her arms, or maybe it's just Gaara's fingers. Either way, it feels divine. The hairs on her arms rise in pleasure.
She wonders how on earth he managed to find a rose in Suna. Sakura has been to all the florists' shops, and she hasn't seen roses in any of them. Desert lilies, ghost flowers, yes, desert sunflowers, desert mallow, and cave primrose, yes, but no roses. Not even in the most upscale and high-class florist shops. One just doesn't find roses in Suna.
Being the Kazekage has its perks, I suppose.
As the two lean closer together, Sakura's deft fingers wound in his hair, staring up at the twinkling tapestry of stars, Sakura hears Gaara murmur, "You do like it, don't you Sakura?"
A warm smile grows up over Sakura's lips. She is thinking of the rose garden in her clan's compound. "Yes." A thought makes the smile turn playful. "You know, Gaara, this rose matches you hair." It does; they are the same shade of lustrous crimson.
He almost sounds surprised. "You know, I think you're right."
Sakura laughs. "That's right." She leans forward, and he catches her shoulder and kisses her. Everything dissolves into bliss, and her hand clenches around the stem of the rose in her lap.
Just because cherry blossoms are too clichéd for Sakura.