Hey everyone! Well it seems as though I have thought up an idea for another fanfic! Woot! Now I know everyone that read "Royal or Not" has probably noticed by now that I deleted it. I did it because I already messed up and deleted it before, I gave it another chance on the site, and it did not go over as well as it had before. Therefore, I just said to hell with it and got rid of it. Maybe if this fic goes over well I will consider putting it up again. Maybe. That is the key word here. Well anyways, here is a GaaSaku one-shot for all you GaaSaku fans. I actually got the idea from a fan picture I saw. I do not know the link to it but it really gave me the inspiration for this one-shot so whoever drew that picture is an awesome person. Oh, and one more thing! I really am considering making this into a full-length fanfic and having this as only one of the scenes in the fic. Any ideas of the story would be totally and completely awesome because I really do not have any
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or the GaaSaku picture that gave me the idea for this fic.
She was beautiful. As she slept, her radiant, goddess like appearance let her beauty shine. Her short, pink hair emphasized the beauty of her gorgeous emerald green eyes. Those eyes that just shined whenever she smiled, that captured his attention. Her creamy milky skin looked do soft, so delicate, he wanted so much to touch her at that moment, to feel her skin under his fingertips. She looked so innocent there as she slept. Her white nightgown made her look even more innocent and delicate then she really was.
Gripping the blade in his hand, he talked to himself softly. "Follow your orders… this is your chance." His grip tightened even more: he could not break his eyes away from her; she was so beautiful.
"Gaara…" she muttered softly in her sleep. Her soft, elegant voice echoed in his ears. Her laugh, her smile, the way that she made him feel. Love. The symbol on his forehead said what he felt and it was all for her. This woman that had taken his hand, this woman who had showed him love, this woman that had captured his heart and had, in return, given hers to him. He put his hand on his chest. A deep, dark feeling filled his heart splitting it in two.
Slowly he approached, knife in hand. He could feel each step that he took grow heavier, and he felt like his knees were going to give out in any second. He did not want to get to her; he wanted to stay away from her. Far away from her so he would not have to hurt her. He did not want to hurt her. She was the one person that he knew he would die for, the one person that he wanted to protect.
Finally, he reached her. He let his knees give out from under him and he sat at her head. The knife in his hand felt like it was burning his skin. He had to get it away from him. He knew he could not throw it away, he had a duty. Instead, he put it to the side so that he could reach it quickly. Placing his hands on the ground, one on each side of her face, he leaned over her so that his face was hovering over hers. His nose was barely touching hers and he just took in her face.
She slept on peacefully as if he was not even there. He wanted so much to kiss her, to kiss her one last time. To feel those sweet, succulent lips against his. Moving his body around so he was at her side, he sat again. He let his eyes to scan her face once more. It was strange how easily this woman had captured him, wrapped him around her finger.
His eyes softened and a single tear ran down his cheek. His hand reached for the knife the smooth blade gleaming from the ghostly light of the moon. He just wanted one, just one. Slowly, he leaned down again and hesitated before letting his lips meet hers. His eyes closed and he longed for her to awaken so he could have more. She was his sweet addiction, his sweet heroin.
As he broke the kiss, the blade found its way to her throat. Just one slice, one slice, one slice…