Title: Twilight
Summary: If wishes were kisses, then my wishes would always come true. ItaSaku one-shot. AU.
Author: wishing-bells
Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto. This one-shot's inspiration: "Twilight," by Dawn Landes. "Moonlight Sonata" was composed by Glenn Miller and performed by his orchestra.
Word Count: 874
Created: September 30th, 2009 (1:12 a.m.)
Completed: September 30th, 2009 (1:43 a.m.)
Author's note: I saw the most incredible shooting star last night… This one-shot isn't meant to be profound or earth-shattering, or to cause emotional upheaval or spontaneous combustion. It's just about two lovers watching the stars together.
The last drops of summertime were finally beginning to chill into the autumn that Haruno Sakura had been craving for months. Green leaves were ignited with the fire of their deaths, lighting up Konoha in a way that was painfully nostalgic to the young doctor. Streetlights, with their firefly-orange glow, illuminated the trees against the twilight as she settled on the cool grass with her woolen plaid blanket. In a short while, it would be dusk in the small park.
Snuggling into her jacket, the green-eyed woman pulled out a pair of black gloves from her bag. It was definitely colder than she had imagined it to be. The soft sound of music could be heard from a nearby apartment building, a song that she recognized as "Moonlight Sonata." She smiled slightly as she hummed along to the music, gazing up into the increasingly darkening sky. Small pricks of light were becoming visible, the crisp air aiding her vision. He would be here soon.
She heard his footsteps crunching in the grass as she wrapped her scarf tighter. Turning to look up at him, she smiled again. "Itachi, you're here."
There was a small raise to the corners of his lips when he looked down at the pinkette. "Sakura. I brought you some tea." He offered her a tall steaming cup of what she could smell as her favorite tea- cinnamon spice. She took a sip of it as he sat down next to her, the heat from the delicious liquid fanning out across her chest. She could smell his tea, as well; earl grey, his preference.
He was wearing a charcoal grey peacoat over what she could see as a white collared shirt and pullover. Black pants and leather shoes completed her observation as she huddled over her tea. "You look nice tonight," she whispered, heat rising in her cheeks. More than nice.
His hand threaded itself through the locks of hair below her blue knitted hat. Tracing little patterns on the nape of her neck, he answered; "So do you, Sakura." She grinned, the action scrunching up her nose as blush strengthened across her face. Leaning against his shoulder, she looked up into his dark eyes. There was warmth in them that heated her more than the tea. "Are you looking forward to the shower?" Her voice was a bit weak- he had that effect on her.
"I am."
When Itachi had informed his pink-haired significant other that he had never purposefully witnessed a meteor shower, she had nearly choked in shock. When she had heard this morning on NPR that a meteor shower would be taking place during most of the early night, Sakura had demanded they watch it.
He didn't object.
"It's going to start soon, I think," she says. Her excitement is tangible to him, and it gives him a smile to place on his face. He pulls her to his chest, careful not to spill any still-hot tea.
It's a few minutes before the first shooting star- it's only a tiny streak of light across the dark blue sky, but Sakura squeals a bit all the same. "Did you see it, Itachi?"
He kisses her neck in affirmation. She giggles a little.
One after the other, the lights start streaking the sky in several-minute intervals. Sakura's reactions are what truly hold the Uchiha's attention. She is like a young child, her gasps and coos of pleasure and awe serving to make him feel happy in a way only she does.
"Have you made any wishes?" She asks, after another meteor crosses the sky. He quirks a brow. She huffs.
"You're supposed to wish on a shooting star," she says exasperatedly. He ghosts his lips along her cheekbone.
"Is that so?" The words are whispered to her temple. She is still and warm in his arms, her fingers drawing circles on his knee.
"Yes," she sounds distracted, "it is."
"Then I will make one."
He kisses her soft pink lips.
When they break apart, their breath clouding in the cool air, a light catches their eyes.
A shooting star, the biggest either has ever seen, lit with white and orange and red and even blue, lights up the night sky for mere seconds, but it's enough.