And she is convinced, sometimes, that it goes beyond feelings.
Certainly, feelings are a big part. They drive her life, and she cannot exist without the flashes that are her stormy green eyes and the heart she wears like a patch on her shoulder so the world can read (and ravage) her heart.
And she isn't Sakura without her easily ignited temper or her rushes of heady conviction, the grit that has held her together against her red-lantern ghosts.
But as she lies here, beside him, watching him breathe in his sleep, there's a different sort of being.
It's not about the giddy feeling that blooms in her chest when he smiles at her genuinely. It's not about the warmth that spreads to her fingertips and her toes when he touches her gently or discreetly slips her hand into his as they're walking to the ramen stand. It's not even about how he sometimes makes her feel like she's a little girl caught up in a hopeless crush again. (No, she's left that behind.)
There's more. Her eyes are clear and sincere as she counts his breaths, the steady rise and fall of his chest which leaves him so unguarded.
Here in this subdued warmth, this simple contentment, she doesn't see him as a blank slate. She doesn't see him as someone without feelings or tact (though he has no problems being an insensitive jerk).
He is simply who he is, Sai. And she is who she is, Sakura.
And they're here together, and she is warm in knowing that she has filled him up with something that is not a feeling, something not defined by an emotion that he has to struggle to name.
Because love is not emotion; love is not a feeling. It's not a blush or a kiss. It's not the way his dark pooling eyes make her heart beat a little faster, or the way he paints pictures for her without her asking, but knowing what she likes best: clean bold ink strokes against the whitest paper.
It's not about these fading moments, which can disappear in a heartbeat, vanish into the sky.
It's a testimony in her heart that tells her what is true. It's a task (she laughs, because really, it is), and loving him isn't easy. But she chooses to.
She doesn't explain this to Sai when he asks her what she means when she whispers I love you in his ear some mornings. She merely smiles a mysterious smile in the pallid light that falls through the window and he has to accept.
She doesn't explain this to Sai, because he already knows.
(Every breath he breathes. I love you.)
And she falls asleep, smiling.
hehe...I was thinking about feelings lately. you really can't judge anything by them, especially relationships (or at least mine to God) because they're so inconsistent and fleeting. but yeah, got me thinking...and then this kind of happened, haha.