Disclaimer: Naruto and its characters belongs to Masashi Kishimoto. I own pretty much nothing.
It doesn't necessarily have to be these two characters. Just ignore the last part if you want to, and imagine any other pairing you like that fits the bill.
I'm just writing it since I haven't written or posted anything for a while. Mind, to some it might be crap. My mind's crap and I like it that way.
.smile.
Her smile was a snowflake.
It was as subtle as one, as fragile, as beautiful.
When it graced her features, she looked as sweet and vulnerable as a doll.
She rarely smiles anyway. Usually her smiles were to fake as much as ice was to cold. Very much so. It never really lit up her eyes; he could tell, while others couldn't. He's had years of experience by constantly looking for that smile. He was an addict and her smiles were his drug.
But when she smiled at him, it was as though the gates of heaven had broken and both of them had found themselves in Eden. Paradise.
x
His smile was a sunbeam.
It was as raw as one, as strong, as warm.
When he actually shoots a real smile, he probably looks as determined and steadfast as a warrior.
He smiles real often anyway. Be it real or fake, he smiles when he's nervous and when he's happy. All the time. His eyes lit up like fire; she knew, while others didn't. She's could probably describe his smile in detail from memory. His smile would be color in her monochrome world.
He offers his smile; she's never really had to ask. His smile was like the embrace that held the both of them together, in thick or thin. Bond.
x
Mimicking the brittle balance between summer and winter, together they were simple beauty of spring.
.cry.
As a small child, she rarely cried in front of anyone.
She was determined to be brave, strong, immovable.
Her tears would only fall onto her pillows, when she's in the safe embrace of the dark.
Her rare tears freaked him out like no other. But he showed her that crying didn't necessarily mean weak, it meant she was human. He was determined to be there to gently brush away those tears, to whisper in her ear, to just be there. He was her pillar.
Her tears now run freely with him around, soaking into the fabric of his shirt. He would hold her to him, bury his face in her hair to calm her down, let her know she wasn't alone. Safe.
x
As a toddler, his tears came at the slightest provocation.
He lets it all out; to be devoid of pain, to ensure he can go back to being himself.
He did his crying in the rain, trying to hide it but his attempts were undeniably futile.
His tears annoyed her to no end. She showed him real strength didn't have to mean unhurt, it could mean ability to endure. She has told him to pick up the slack, the word was cold. He couldn't run away by crying, but he can get over it with help. She was his anchor.
He hid it well now. The silent tears trailed in the lonely darkness, but when she caught them, she would be there to stitch back his broken self, she was there for him. Comfort.
x
Being there for each other was like being the Sun after a rain, together they basked in the glory of the rainbow.
.scream.
Her furious shrieks were the howling wind.
It was spontaneous, it was untameable, it was unexpected.
She screams when she's angry, frustrated and when she wanted the world to collapse and end her.
She screams at him in the midst of anger. He takes it with guilt, and a bit of hurt, but he still stood strong and took it like a man. He lets her scream her lungs raw at him, hoping to be able to lift her burden and slowly calmed her down in hushed tones. He generously sacrificed.
After a bout of raised voices, she would go about guilty. She tries to distance herself. She tries not to hurt. But he pulls her close anyway, and reels her in with his smile. Hold.
x
He was as silent as a cave.
He never yelled, he just let the sound echo, resound, reverberate within his empty self.
And with every vibration that ricocheted off the wall, he fell deeper into the eternal pain.
She tries to draw the screams of turmoil out of his soul. That way, he did less self-damage, and finally lets himself free; she lures the pain out gently and when he did break, with him she crumbled. But she was always there to pick up the pieces. She did her all to save.
She would always be by his side until the broken wing mended, until he was ready to soar. She would let him go with a simple look that made everything possible. Release.
x
Her screams were a wild soprano, his were a controlled bass, they were an interwoven melody bound to last a lifetime.
.hit.
She hits repeatedly.
The way she fights was witty, sharp and brutal.
And she needn't lift a finger. He had endured her vicious stabs, her searing rips; which had formed in her mind and finally escaped through those desirable lips. He was hit repeatedly by her elegant words that masked malice, and it was worse than any beat-up he endured. Fire.
But he was willing to get burned to get close to her. After all, he was the ice that had to cool down a raging inferno. And he never failed, though he does get hurt along the way. Scarred.
x
He hits indirectly.
His fighting was blunt, controlled and carefully powered.
As a boy, he had fought with his fists. As a man, he uses silence to hit, indifference to maim; he acted with his heart and left painfully cold in the eyes. He imprisoned her in a self-made prison spun of delicate guilt. He had threatened to toss away the key and let her sanity ebb away. Ice.
But she endured the frostbite until her flames finally withstood the hailstorm. She was the flames, capable of handling the cold. She nurses her fire until it slowly warms him up. Whole.
x
He was the biting cold whereas she the scorching heat, the thin line where they overlapped was the perfect temperature of dreams.
.wink.
Her winks were shooting stars.
They were rare, they were captivating, and they were euphoria-inducing.
Her winks were as smooth, as silent as a criminal that bated breaths and rushed the heart.
Her eyes would just sparkle, filled with mystery and happiness, obliviously instilling curiosity and addiction. He would smile without fail as she threw these hidden glances at him; just for him. It felt almost sinful to indulge in their hidden messages. She had him wrapped around her finger. Control.
He finds himself flustered whenever she does, it was flawless to him. Often enough he felt temptation coursing in him but steeled himself painfully, they were best friends. Insufferable.
x
His winks were the falling rain.
They were painfully often, they were glee-filled, and they were reflections of his soul.
They were dropped left, right and centre like the bevy of ladies that fell to his boyish charms.
His eyes would just light up, painstakingly mischievous and open, creating pools of innocent joy and also a warning. She would catch these winks, knowing it was for her although their eyes didn't meet. He had told her so. They were so pure, so clean; it was akin to madness without a lock. Breached.
She would deny she felt her face and neck heat up as her insides were, a lie only he is oblivious to. She finds herself frustratingly gazing at him for some unwritten reason. Intolerable.
x
Somewhere at the crossroads of falling rain and shooting stars were the visions of fantasy, falling from the sky like sacred gifts from above.
.touch.
Her touches were the breeze.
They were discreet, delicately light, and carried the unspoken messages.
It was as simple as a brush of her hand, they way she fixed his appearance in a gentle feminine way.
They were sly, he noted, carefully hidden in many various activities others would pass by. But every touch was reassuring, telling that in him she believes, they were a source of comfort as well as the core of his strength. It was their open secret, waiting for someone to catch on. Obscured.
He sighs and rests his chin on his palm. Admittedly, things were getting dangerous. The feel of her touches just won't leave his mind. He was in some kind of self-made predicament. Linger
x
His touches were the earth.
They can't be ignored, felt perfectly safe, and painstakingly obvious.
A reassuring grasp, a protective hold, projecting all that was masculine.
They were open, she realised, and torturously often enough. Every touch came protective, telling her it was absolutely fine, and they were unbelievably gentle coming from strong arms and lovingly firm. His gestures were so innocent many would turn a blind eye to it. Exposed.
She was at ease with his simple actions, a brush of hand, a touch on the cheek, or even the firm one-armed hug. She found herself craving the feel of him, afraid the memory would vanish. Fade.
x
The land and sky may seem forever apart, but one never notices how the air falls to meet the ground and the earth rises to reach the clouds.
.sing.
Her voice was an angelic soprano.
The notes were powerful, self-regulated and over-all alluring.
She sings only to him, on nights when they had none but the other as company.
He compares them to the siren's call, to reach her he was ready to endure all hell, his life would be threatened, but the hardships didn't matter, to her he must go. It was an undeniable beckon, rarely passing through lips so fine. He was drawn in, and his struggles were futile. Reeled.
He would rest by her side as she ran fingers through his hair and spun enchanting lullabies. He wanted to join in on her melody but contained himself, it wasn't his part. Implausible.
x
His voice was a reassuring bass.
The notes were well-blended, almost hidden and captivating.
He sings only to her, accompanied by vibrating strings, vocalising the melodies in his soul.
She thinks his voice is akin to nature, if heard closely enough, it becomes heaven, it tells her that she will be kept safe, but she takes the risks anyway, she was completely charmed. He rarely sung, he wasn't confident of himself. But when he did, it was golden and rich. Tempted.
She would lay across his chest, wondering when did her shrimp of a best friend grow so much, as he gently sang her to sleep. She knew the words to his song but she didn't sing along. Impossible.
x
The melodic soprano accompanied by a smooth bass, it was a symphony made to match for a lifetime and beyond.
.sleep.
She sleeps like glass.
Her sleep was brittle, it was fragile and it could shatter in a heartbeat.
When she closed her eyes, the ghosts of her past resurfaced, rendering her completely vulnerable.
She would lie in bed for hours; letting silence drip slow, wishing, wanting for a calm sleep to claim her for once. She ends up waiting until the wee hours of the morn, sleepless. And when she finally drifts off, she bursts awake again, deathly afraid. He knows, he's seen it passing by her room. Pity.
But in recent, slumber came easier and calmly in the protective warmth of her best friend's arms. He would envelop her in his own calming aura, and unconsciously haunt her dreams. Blessed.
x
He sleeps like a lake.
His slumber was constantly in motion, yet oddly calm and still at the same time.
When he closes his eyes, he embarks on a plethora of adventures of many genres.
He would fall under sleep's spell in seconds; letting the buzz in his head become frantic, relishing, enjoying every moment he sleeps every time. He would be off in some unknown dream plane until the sun rises, and even if he did wake, he fell right back asleep. She'd seen it countless times. Envy.
But now, he'd keep himself wide awake, watching her finally being able to sleep. He feels guilty, letting himself fall prey to sinful dreams of his best friend. He must keep awake. Cursed.
x
Though they had many differences that separated them, their sole similarity held them together.
.lie.
She lies to herself.
She denies, she refuses to come to terms with herself, she was hurting herself.
Because it had felt so very wrong it was unexplainably right.
She would deny that her cheeks would flare, her hands would get clammy; though she couldn't ignore how her stomach churned, how her head would throb the same way her heart beats to his name. This was a secret she didn't share. This one he didn't know. Clueless.
He felt tormented watching herself suffer, for hell-knows-what reasons she would not share. He felt like an outsider, like he had just received a letter of eviction. Out.
x
He lies to the whole world.
He tells what is opposite his mind, what is different from what was eating his soul, an act.
Although it was right, it may have been wrong to him and the world.
He denied the fact he was territorial, that she played on his mind on his mind for no reason; though he knows much more than he lets on and he felt himself slipping. This had to be wrong, immoral. He daren't tell her, he was a coward. So she sees him as he passes without a care in life. Pretend.
She knew something was up, she always did. And when she brought it up, he would only make some half-assed lie that was very unconvincing. Yet he never completely expelled her from his life. In.
x
In some conditions that were usually incomprehensible, lies have to be told to discover the tiny nuggets of precious truth it held.
.kiss.
Her kisses were the future.
They held everything, be it love, hope and faith.
Her lips would move against his in ways he never thought possible for her.
Her kisses were enchantingly deep, and surreally mesmerising, it was a push for the better and a shove he desperately needed. She had straddled him in the morning dew and hesitantly placed her lips on his, and instantly his world was brighter and hotter than ten Suns. Sudden.
He kissed her back, of course, a sudden confession like a dam bursting wide open in a flood of raw emotion. The two were left in the wet grass to watch the sun rise, finally together. Connected.
x
His kisses were the past.
They held all, his love, his memories and their tribulations.
His lips would just flutter against hers for the briefest moments of paradise.
His kisses were sensationally light, and amazingly simple, it was a pull of memory, a burden she would gladly carry to the end of the Earth. He had enveloped her in his arms from behind and trailed butterfly kisses from her jaw to ear, setting her ablaze as she had guessed. Expected.
She didn't kiss him back, instead she spun around so their eyes met and she poured all her love into her first worded confession. And with a knowing grin, he entwined their hands. Tangled.
x
One moved infinitely in one direction and the other eternally another, stretch the past and future long enough and you'll have forever.
.Somehow, they would make it because he was Sarutobi Konohamaru and she Hyuuga Hanabi.
.They had to, they were complementary.
Thank you very much for taking the time to read. I hope that wasn't too much of a waste of your time.