Heated whispers.
Soft touches.
How long had this been held from him due to the stupid notion that she was weird? Perhaps she was a tad shy, but weird was not the word. Gentle. That word suited her far better. She'd gently encouraged him. Gently loved him from the sidelines; allowing him to love another despite the hurt it had caused.
He was an ass.
He'd wanted love. He'd sought it out desperately for the majority of his life so far and he'd nearly pushed it away. Nearly crushed her love in his palm without ever noticing that he'd held it.
His lips connected with her own, far more forceful than her own shy little kisses. As if he was still confirming that she was really there. Still loving him. Him. Showing her despite his past actions that she was the only person in his mind.
How did it end up like this? The blond wondered mildly in the back of his head, eyes closing for a small moment as timid fingers trailed their way along his bare chest. The touch was so gentle, like a feather. As though she were afraid he would break.
So very gentle.
He couldn't remember the day they'd become so close, and he wished he had. He wanted to remember every second of this. Every second with her... His thoughts were halted as lips descended upon his own, claiming them thoroughly.
He didn't care.
He liked it.
Every touch his fingers made left behind a trail of visible goosebumps and had the pearl eyed beauty squirming in excitement, and the sight thrilled him. He - the boy who had thought himself replusive for so long - brought pleasure with the slightest touch.
Effortlessly.
With every brush of his fingertips, she followed with a shaky inhale and a rosy blush he grew quickly to adore. Her eyes - usually so clear - were hazy as they gazed at him through thick dark lashes. And he'd never seen anything so beautiful in his life; not even a fresh bowl of Ramen could compare. And Ramen was almost holy in his book.
The way her eyes followed him as she hovered over his lean frame had his breath catching in his throat. She'd always watched him; though he couldn't specifically remember when it had started. He'd thought her weird at the time. Strange.
He regretted it.
But she remained gentle.
"Naruto-kun..." Her voice was only a soft whisper, his name rolling off of her tongue in reverence. And he responded in kind, his voice rough and passionate as his fingers dug into her hips. Keeping her as close as they could manage. And as far as he would ever allow her to go again.
They were so different.
She was soft, gentle.
"Hinata..."
He was rough, hard.
Damn was he hard.
Her fingertips never went lower than his waistline, and while a part of him wanted her to be adventurous he also knew the action was purely Hinata. Her timid, shy, gentle self. He'd long since lost any form of innocence, not sexually mind you. Mentally he was worse than Pervy-sage.
Not that he would ever admit it.
She was pure.
Gentle.
And he would be damned if he would ruin that. No matter how badly he wanted to, how badly he needed her. This was also how he would protect her. It wasn't just the world that could ruin her. It was himself.
His train of thought was lost as her lips skimmed along his jaw, curiously but with such tenderness his heart hurt. Every touch she offered him was tender. Loving.
Gentle.
He was starting to think Gentle-Fist was an odd joke.
Even as strong as she was, and even though he'd seen her defeat more than her share of near monstrous ninja, he would protect her. Body and soul. Because even if she grew to hate him, he'd love her.
Because she was gentle.
