naruto is property if masashi kishimoto.
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This is to a girl who got into my head with all the pretty things she did.
The pretty things she did.
I was obsessed with all of the pretty things she did. Like when her head inclined ever-so-slightly to the left when she was thinking. And the way she flicked her head when her fringe fell across her eyes. And when she bit her lip when she was confused. Her smile was pretty.
I've never looked at one person so closely before. I marked and remembered all of her movements and her gestures. I could write a book on her if I wanted to.
The way that she hummed under her breath when I was sitting exactly three seats behind her on the bus. That was pretty. And when she would go pink to the hair-line if she had so much as a drop of alcohol. It was pretty whenever she would spot the first star in the sky and it reflected in her eyes. It was a pretty thing when she would trace the creases of her hand in blue biro.
It was pretty when she would stand in a door way, trying to remember something that she had forgotten. And when she bit the creases of her thumbs it was pretty. The way that she crossed her arms across her chest was pretty, indeed, even if it made me feel as though she was trying to hold herself together.
The way that she flushed a deep scarlet was one of the prettiest things she did. The way she would make quiet foot-falls across the floor when the world was supposed to be sleeping. When she ran up behind me to throw her arms around me was so pretty.
It was pretty when she would sleep on the side closest to the rain. When she grabbed my hand when she was afraid it was pretty. She would stand on her tippy-toes to kiss me so that I didn't have to bend as much. It was even pretty when tears rolled down her porcelain-looking face.
It was pretty when she would not wear high-heels so that she would be a head shorter than me at all times. When I picked her up and spun her around her it was pretty and it was pretty when I set her down again and her knees wobbled. When she watched me instead of the movie it was pretty.
It was also pretty when she would brush the hair out of my face. And when she would trace patterns on my hipbones. It was pretty when she would meet my eyes. It was pretty when she would let her head rest on my shoulder and I could inhale the sent of strawberry shampoo from her hair. When she would get off my lap and stumble and mumble "head-rush" it was pretty.
But I couldn't call her pretty.
No one ever could.
Because she wasn't merely pretty.
Her emerald eyes, her pink hair, her pale skin and her slight figure. Her emotions and all of her insides.
Everything all together couldn't just be pretty.
Because everything all together was beutiful. Mezmerizing. Captivating. Breath-taking.
She was all of this.
And she is Sakura.
And I am Sasuke.
And I'm not quite sure why, but she chose me.
So she is Sakura,
And she is mine.
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i guess redundancy is my style.
i hope you enjoyed this, it was inspired by konstantine- something corporate which should be on everybody's ipod.
reviews are very muchly appreciated.
xx
