Hello all! Or some. Or people who have got lost on their way to better fics.
Due to my in-ability to commit to a proper story these are going to be a series of drabbles, spanning over different periods of time. It might cause some confusion at first, but it will all come together eventually. If you're willing to stay around that long. ;P
And it was also nice to break away from the M rating.
From the first day that boy arrived Haruno Sakura didn't like him.
That cold look in his onyx eyes; the way his spiky ebony hair stuck out on end and in his eyes and how much she just wanted to push, push, PUSH it back and clip it into place.
Everything about him bothered her. He always had an air of arrogance about him - seemed ticked off by everything around him, unlike his neutral older brother. He'd only been here a month yet he already walked about as if he himself were a member of the Akatsuki.
Her eyebrow twitched in annoyance. She was staring now, staring from the safety of the curtains at the deck of Sasori's wooden porch. They were red and black, like everything in this god-forsaken place. Those dreary, swirling clouds were everywhere, mocking her and her pastel coloured head.
She had been sitting there for the better part of two hours. Sasori and Deidara had set off in the morning and she was bored. She had dressed in an airy yukata and allowed her hair to hang to her shoulders as the puppet master wasn't there to frown at her appearance.
Gently pulling aside one of the light curtains she frowned - it had began to drizzle. She absolutely abhorred the rain. It made her wood smell and her joints creaked if she didn't dry off properly.
Turning to look back to the porch across the yard she saw that ebony orbs now burned into her emeralds and she felt a thrill go through her. For a moment his eyebrows un-furrowed, all trace of permanent irritation forgotten as he gazed at her. She stared back, un-flinching. She was very good at playing a doll when she needed to. They stayed like that for a quarter of a second, neither moving or turning to the side in embarrassment, until suddenly, as if realising something of great annoyance his face darkened again, and he turned his back to retreat in the doors of the adjacent shack.
Sakura scowled at the place he'd been only seconds before and wondered what he'd seen in her face that had turned him away.
Yes, from the first day that boy arrived Haruno Sakura hated him.