Hey all! Guess who?? Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking- 'Oh, look, it's the cray FanGirl that NEVER does anything with her stories!!' Ok, ok, I get it! I haven't been able to do anything with Gay Mafia 'cause of school. And because of school I'm always home when my parents are, and I really can't write yummy Lemons with my Mutter looking over my shoulder now can I? But no worries!! Soon, very soon ( The 5th) school will be out and I will write a ton for you all!! I swear on all of the SasuNaru yummy-ness in the world!

Everyone- Gasp!!

Ok, ok! Maybe not that! But I do swear!!! And until I can freely write steamy BoyxBoy Yaoi for all you rabid FanGirls (and the handful of FanBoys XD), this shall keep you company! It's not much but it's something.

Warnings: Uhh… Not sure yet. Mostly just a little bit of language and such. Nothing really, really bad.

Disowner- F*CK! Stop reminding me! I DON'T own Naruto! All I can do I write dirties about him and Sasu-Chan!! Ugh… ~.~

Summ- It's About Gaara… Read it!

Craving

Vampire.

The one word in the world that I hated most. Just over and over, that's all I ever hear anymore. It's like the youth of today just can't seem to come up with a better insult. Like it even is an insult… I've gotten so used to the name being thrown at me; I've even caught myself answering to it once or twice.

But the thing that really annoys me about the word is it's stereo typing me (and few others). I don't go off biting people to feed my unholy spirit, or whatever the hell you want to think vampires do. And just for you complete morons; there is no such thing as a fucking "True Vampire"; everyone with even the slightest ability to think knows that! However, there are such things as real vampires.

Trust me.

I would know.

XoXoXoX

I let my legs collapse under my own weight as soon as I was near enough to fall onto my bed. I lied there for the longest time, already half tangled up in the black and red sheets, trying to calm my shaking and catch my breath. I closed my mint colored eyes as soon as I started to see bright purple spots echoing wherever I looked.

I couldn't breathe; it almost hurt too much to even try. My heart was rapidly increasingly speeding up from the lack of oxygen and pounded against my rib cage, making my chest ache even more.

Breathe. I told myself. Just breathe. Maybe it will pass through time… Deep down, I knew better though. I knew when I got this kind of sickness there was almost no way to wait it out. I would be weak, sick, hurting, and starving for days on end until I finally gave in, or, on the very rare occasion, until it passes.

I rolled over onto my side, hoping to ease the pressure on my chest so I could at least breathe without gasping like a pathetic child that just got the breath forced out of him for the first time. It helped a bit, but I still couldn't shake the sickness that was starting to twist my stomach into a tight knot. I winced, when my pulse quickened almost roughly, making my temples throb with pain just as bad is the aching in my chest.

Oh, gods, it hurt. It hurt so much, but I didn't want to give in. I didn't want to ask for help from anyone. Asking for help meant I was weak… I didn't like to think I was weak. I wanted to think that I was strong. Strong for everything that I made myself endure, for how long I was able to take the pain and the sickness. I was almost proud of myself for it.

Almost.

The knot in my stomach tightened so forcefully that my whole body shook from the sudden pressure. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and pleaded with whatever god may exist to not let my black out. The last thing I needed was to be send to the hospital.

Again.

Before I could really process what I was doing, my body pulled me up on its own accord and threw me out of my room and into the bathroom. I knelt on my knees in front of the toilet for well more than a half hour puking my guts out. My body kept lurching, even when I was no longer able to throw anything up. I could only dry gag.

Finally, I was able to fall back to try to catch my breath again.

I laid my head back against the cool plaster of the off white wall that now supported me. It felt good against my burning skin. I closed my eyes again, but not because I was seeing spots, but because I was suddenly too exhausted to stand up and carry myself back to my bedroom…

XoXoXoX

"Gaara! What the hell is the matter with you?!" my eyes snapped open and I winced as the shrill voice that rang is my sensitive ears. I sat straight up from where I was laying on the bathroom floor, and then groaned, instantly regretting the sudden movement. More slowly this time, I turned my head up to look at my older sister who was standing in the doorway with her blue eyes narrowed and her arms folded across her chest. Temari glared down at me only for a moment longer, but then caught sight of my face.

She knelt down in front of me and pushed my deep red hair away from my burning forehead with her hand to press her palm to my skin. She pulled away after only a moment with a worried kind of motherly look set on her young face. "Gaara, I wish you would have called me before you left school to tell me that you were sick."

Again. I added silently to myself.

"Honey, I would have came and got you and brought you home. Why did you just run out like that?" She asked me gently as she swept her long blond hair away from her face. My response was almost automatic.

"I didn't want you to get in trouble with your boss, again. You've missed too much work for me already." She seemed just as prepared with an answer just like I had been with mine.

"You're health is much more important than work, Gaara." She pull me up to my feet and steadied my when I swayed a little. "Go to bed, I'll go make you some hot soup." I mentally winced.

Just what I need. I thought to myself. Something in my stomach so I can have another vomiting episode. But I did what I was told, kind of liking the idea of going back to bed.

I trudged my way back to my small room and plopped back down on my bed with a groan, wishing Temari wouldn't have woken me up; I couldn't breathe again.

I threw a thin, pale arm over my eyes after a moment, trying to block the dimming light from my way too sensitive eyes. I heaved a sigh, knowing I was wide awake now and wouldn't be able to get back to sleep anytime soon. Without moving my right arm, I felt around with my left, blindly searching for what I wanted. It only took me a moment to find it; the remote was just where I left it.

I grabbed it off the small wooden nightstand by my bed and roamed my thumb over the different shaped and sized buttons until I hit the one that tuned on my C.D player. I half smiled as soon as I heard the slow rhythm of the music.

Bum. Bum.

The shallow sound of the drums sounded like a slow, but steady heartbeat to me. It sounded at ease, so sane. The simple sound of the off and on thumping took me flying high above reality, and gave me a chance to completely forget the sickening feeling that was currently spreading itself through my body.

I let out a shallow breath of air as soon as the light, female voice sang the slow first lines of the song. I felt myself leave reality completely while she spoke-sang about leaving, letting time pass without a care, and getting away, even if it was only for a day. Or, that is how it sounded to me when I read between the lines of the lyrics.

Bum. Bum.

I was drifting so high above the clouds that I didn't even realized that I started to sing along with the deep male voice with my own soft, tenor one. I allowed myself to mimic the way he lifted and dropped his words in the familiar rhythm. Then, my words slowly drifted out and I hummed along with each and every word that was sung; by the man or woman.

Bum. Bum.

The drums still carried on that same beat all through the song, but now it was woven into more complex pattern. It calmed me more, as the song carried on. "Let me see you stripped down to the bone…" I echoed after that last lines of the song "Stripped" by Shiny Toy Guns was sung. It fit there, even if it wasn't the right line.

Bum. Bum.

Then, it was over.

The next song came on of course, but, in the few seconds of silence, I had already come down from my music fueled high and, surprisingly, I didn't feel sick anymore. However, the pain returned, though not as sharp as it was before. Instead, it was more of a dull pulsing. But, it lessened just enough for me to think clearly for the first time in several hours.

Alright, I thought to myself. I have already misses too much school. And walking out today didn't help my attendance at all; I'll be lucky if they don't suspend me. I can't miss out on anymore school, so being sick like that tomorrow is NOT an option. I need to take care of this, and now… Naruto won't be happy if he finds out…

Naruto was my best friend, and, almost just as importantly, my donor. Whenever I was feeling like this, sick and weak, he was there, ready and willing to give anything he could to make me better. The only problem this time was he was out of town with grandmother. Completely out of my reach. And, when he got back he was going to be pissed at me if he found out what I was about to do to make myself feel better. Never mind that it would make me get better, it was the hurting myself that made him so upset.

"Better me then you." He would always tell me whenever I questioned him about it.

I just won't let him find out, then. I decided.

Quickly, before I could subconsciously talk any sense into myself, I sat up (This time feeling no dizziness) and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I bent down and opened the only drawer of my small night stand. I slide my hand into the small space and felt around until my hand wrapped around a small, round box. I pulled the box out and set in neatly down my knee so I could push the drawer back into place. As soon as it was closed, I turned my attention back to the black, metallic box. I picked it up and easily popped the lid off without a second thought.

There, lying on a small white cloth at the bottom on the box was a shiny, thin razor. Before I met Naruto, I used it all the time; it was the only one I ever used, ever owned. Before Nate, it used to be blackened and rusted with blood, but now it was shining a sort of lavender color, almost as if it was new. I haven't used it sense I met Naruto… Two years. It's been two years sense I was forced to make small flaws in my own flesh for some reason or another.

I sighed, almost sad to have to break my record; I quickly shook the feeling away.

Carefully, I plucked the small art tool out of its luxurious, silky white bed and set the box aside on the night stand. I turned the tool over and over in between my fingers, watching how the dim light of the setting sun that cascaded into my bedroom bounced of the metal and scattered the light into hundreds of tiny prisms of color. I found myself smiling at that. At how the beautiful colors twisted and distorted themselves around according to the way I would turn the razor. I tilted the small object in my fingers so the colors were forced to reflect against my own pale wrist.

Gorgeous, I thought. Utterly gorgeous.

The prisms made my skin shimmer with different colors. But that wasn't the best part. The best part was the way the light of colors bounced of my artistic scars and scattered even more. The scars danced with the colors, they almost looked alive. It was so beautiful; it literally took my breath away.

I had always thought that scars were beautiful. I loved how each and every scar held a story behind it, some painful, and some even funny. Scars were reminders of the past, proof that you had lived through this or that. Proof that something or other really did happen, and that it wasn't a dream. They are like tattoos. Only… much more artistic. Some scars more artistic then others, naturally, but art none the less. Or maybe it just took an artistic person to make scars art?

Whenever I was forced to do this, I made sure that at least the flaw would look beautiful later on. So, as it was, both of my arms were covered in intricate, curling designs made of only thin white lines. They curved in such ways across my flesh that they made small pictures here and there. But, what picture you would see completely depends at which way you would tilt your head. There were small curling lines that made up a small, yet complex design of flowers, a small waterfall, and, if you looked at the lines in just the right way,a simple heart. But, if you were to pull back, and gaze at the art all together, you would see something that looked like an old Japanese painting design.

I closed my eyes for a moment, then opened them and focused on the present. Slowly, though without hesitation, I placed the razor on my upper most wrist. I winced only slightly as I carefully slide it across my skin. I curved the line only in three places, once on the beginning to give the tail of it a twisting look, once at the middle, just too kind of make it bent, then lastly the very end, just to make it look symmetrical.

I smiled again, watching the crimson fluid first bead on just the surface of the cut, then overflow. I didn't let the liquid dribble very far, however. Just after the blood started to bead, the sent caught me, sending me into a state of pure instincts. I pressed my pale, pink lips to the flowing cut and started to suck. Once the blood hit my tongue, I allowed myself to fall back onto my bed for the second time that day.

This time, out of total bliss.

I kept my lips pressed firmly to the wound, sometimes sucking, sometime letting the thick, sweet tasting liquid drip down into my mouth and catching it onto my tongue. I didn't pull away until I was sure it wouldn't bleed any more. Finally, when I did pull back, my sickness was gone, and the throbbing pain that shot all around my body had already stopped.

Gods, I thought after several minutes of just laying there. I absolutely hate these cravings! Why do I suffer so much, and then I'm cured by just a mouth full of blood? I closed my eyes, knowing I would probably never know the answer.

The truth is everything I'm going through it totally genetic(However, I'm the only one in my family that has this sickness). And, doctors, nor scientists haven't figured out what causes vampirism. So, I'm going to have to deal with it, until they do.

Now, don't get me wrong, being vampiric isn't all that bad. Sometimes it can take me on one hell of a ride. Three years ago, when I went through what's called 'Awakening' (1) all of my senses shot up like a bullet. My eyes are now a perfect 20/20 (And you can't even imagine how well I can see in the dark. Honestly, I think I can see better on the dark then I can in daylight), my hearing is incredible (And really comes in handy when it comes to unpredictable people like Naruto. I just hate surprises.),my sense of smell is just plain crazy- I can smell food from maybe a half a mile away (NO joke!!), and my touch… let just say I am REALLY sensitive now, alright?

However, there are some damn crazy downfalls, too. The number one downfall is, of course, carvings (There are some things that help cravings sometimes like thick liquid, or hard candy, believe it or not). But there is also the fact that my skin and eyes are now very, very sensitive to the light. I can't go anywhere now without sun block and sunglasses…

But as far as the cravings go, lucky for me, Naruto will be there next time. And, who knows? Maybe next time I will be able to wait out the sickness.

I snorted at the idea. Yeah, that will happen.

Vampire.

I lied.

The word that I hated most in the world was "craving".

XoXoXoX

HAHA!! Done!! And just let me throw it out right now that YES vampirism like this is real. In fact, the sickness that I just got over two days ago made me want to write this. And YES I am vampiric.

But, other than that, any other questions??

Let me know and don't be afraid to let me know how much this sucks and tell me what needs to be changed!!

RR, Bitte!!

~NonPerfect-Child