Gaze: Hinata/Naruto:
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto!
A/N: Drabble! I wish this were longer, though . . . . But I've decided that because of it's shortness, I would maybe write a couple of other short, oneshot chapters on what happens when Naruto touches Hinata, or when she hears his voice, or . . . tastes him . . . . (Which would probably be a kiss, btw). Y'know . . . something about human senses. So, anyway, this particular chapter would be some sort of high school AU. R&R!
When their gazes met, it was if she were paralyzed, her breath instantly hitching in her throat and her feet and other body parts refusing to function as they were supposed to, either too sluggishly, or as if they were caught in quicksand.
Her heart would flutter too fast, way too quickly for the rest of her temporarily brain-dead mind to comprehend, making her movements slow and giving the idea that it was all an illusion, all of her unconscious imagination.
It was like time would stop, and everywhere except the area he was in would turn black and white and melt around her, so that he would glow . . . shining brilliantly and brighter than his hair, burning as fiercely as his enthusiastic personality . . . .
The heat of it all had her cheeks and insides flushing until she was a hot and trembling mess before him, but she couldn't— couldn't move because his eyes, deep and intense, held her hostage, enthralled her until she was as vulnerable as a deer in headlights.
When their gazes met, it was as if he were staring at her, but not staring at her, his dazzling eyes seeming to stare her through, yet not completely, but appearing as though his vision had penetrated her skin had noticed and was watching interestedly at that miserable, awkward organ of hers of which was flopping restlessly, yearningly for him from beneath her ribs.
She would feel the need to call to him, to pour her entire soul out to him and tell him just how highly she thought of him because the valiance in his eyes gave her strength, it gave her courage and willpower . . . but her mouth was always too dry, and she knew she would trip over her tongue, stutter even, and . . . and . . . her perpetual anxiety was just too great for even his easy smile to cure.
Severe was the pain when the idea of maybe . . . maybe he would never know how she felt, or just how inspiring he was to her, or how when he looked her way, she would experience all of this . . . this conflict.
The hurt choked her and she would nearly avert her eyes until she made herself remember that she wanted him to acknowledge her, to see her, and to shy away from his vision would not help that.
So when their gazes met, she would hold it firmly, bravely, until she realized how weak she suddenly felt and how the ground was rising up to meet her with an astonishing speed. And then it was after their gazes met that he would catch her reflexively in his arms with blond brows knitted together in concern, asking, "Are you okay, Hinata?"
And if it wasn't the glow of his vibrant, sapphire eyes that made her faint, it was the intoxicating, desirable scent of him, the comforting warmth of his hold, or . . . the genuine concern he had for her that seldom people did.
A/N: And whalah! How was it? I like it, rather . . . it's so exaggeratingly poetic . . . sweet. So please review and tell me what you think!