A kunai was on her neck, the rain overhead pelted down.

She could feel his body heat radiating off of him, seducing her slowly.

She could still remember his scent, the way he moved, the way his hands felt on her body.

And suddenly the kunai wasn't there any more, instead his mouth was slowly making its way up her neck, she leant her head to the side, giving him easier access.

His arms went around her middle, pulling her tight against him, his cloak was warm and the rain ran off it in rivulets.

How could he make her feel so good when no one else could?

Why did it have to be him?

Why was it that she couldn't get him out of her head, his scent, his touch, his kisses, his voice, his eyes.

Everything about him was seared in her memory.

Eventually he turned her around and captured her lips with his own, it was bliss.

She moaned in ecstasy, wanting more of him, needing his touch before he evaporated into the rain.

She needed to feel wanted, loved, craved.

Slowly they sank down to the ground, his mouth always on hers, his tongue fighting for dominance, her hands in his hair, bringing him closer to her.

Always wanting, neither sated.

Eventually she cried out in release, clinging to him, sweat mixed with rain, her body shaking.

She wanted them to stay like that forever, but eventually they had to part again, they had to leave one another, they couldn't be together, not truly.

Yet they couldn't forget, so they always came back, always met in the dark of night, never satisfied when they left.

Always yearning for the other.

Always wishing for more time, always wishing that the other was on their side, that they weren't enemies.

Wishing, but never doing.

Because, however much they craved or loved they couldn't brave themselves to step into the unknown, for what if it was only a fleeting thing?

What if their love died and the passion left, then they would be left empty handed.

So they met and they parted, neither one truly willing to let it all go for the other.

They parted with a kiss, a promise for a once again, a promise to never stop hungering.

For they would always be drawn back in, neither one could deny themselves the other, both always seeking eachother.

But no one would ever know.

For the night hid who met within its folds, and neither one would ever tell, both quite enjoyed their self-created hell.

(It's Itachi and Sakura just incase you didn't know)

Short I know, but it popped into my head so I had to write it down. Tell me what you think.