I was dying.
That's right, dying. No, I didn't have a disease. No murderous psychopath was slaughtering me, spilling blood every where against a dark background. Although, if I bothered to explain to you what was going on right now, you could see why that would be the most logical assumption. No, I was dying because I loved this. I was dying because he was eating me whole, every breath, every heart beat, sunk mercilessly into his skin. I don't know what he was feeling, but now, no matter how hard he pushed me away, I would come back. I knew where I belonged, and damn it, I wasn't about to step down from standing by his side.
Oh god. I finally did it. I spoke to him! It's taken so long, but I finally did it. Though I don't know how it ended up the way it did, I hope that he continues to look at me the way he did last night. Oh, I could just loose myself in that aquamarine gaze of his. Perhaps I'm too young for this, but I've tamed the beast. And there's no way in hell that I'm leaving him alone again. Not after I've finally got what I want. Neither of us deserve to be alone. Not after what the world's done to us. And god help me, I am going to make sure that he's the happiest damn person on Earth.- Ashita
She woke with the distinct feeling of warmth pressed against her. Unused to the feeling, she tensed slightly, before memories of the night before seeped into her awakening brain. She looked up with ebony eyes, slightly curious and fearful. But there was little cause for the worry, as his sea foam eyes softened at her, and she smiled before ducking her head into his chest, hiding her face from him as she blushed and clutched her own hands. He shifted, and she opened her eyes, curious as to what he was doing. He had sat up, and she followed suit, taking the sheet with her as she did so, covering up her chest. He looked back at her, his face relaxed and as open as it could be. Something told her that he would wear that basic mask of blankness for the rest of his life. But she would learn how to read through it. She'd pick up on the subtle signs soon enough; she always did.
Ashita was inept at psychology, capable of seeing through nearly any lie she was presented with. She was an over compassionate being, which may or may not have explained her attraction to Gaara. As he stepped out of the bed, the morning sun caught his bare form, and struck her silly. She'd never seen any one who looked...so much like a god. He ran his fingers through brick colored hair, closing his eyes as he did so, soaking up the sun. Ashita was not so low in self confidence to let this awesome sight convince her that she paled in beauty next to him; her vainess just so happened to be her down fall and why she never became a ninja.
Of course, that also could have been contributed to the fact that she was extremely petite, Gaara dwarfing her by a full head. Perhaps she would have grown more if she'd been a ninja...ah, oh well. She was too proud of her feminine form and her long black hair to worry about any of that any how. But she stared shamelessly, a drunken smile plastered on her face when he turned to face her, those magnificent eyes open once more. He hesitated before a lopsided smile forced its way onto his lips. Her own smile brightened considerably and she rushed from her place on the bed covered in black satin sheets to nearly tackle the poor boy. He caught her round the waist, her tiny weight next to nothing to the ninja. As they pulled back, he was grinning that horribly beautiful attempt at a smile again. It was enough for her to interrupt it with a firm kiss on the lips.
He responded happily enough, wrapping his arms around her waist, the feeling of strength in them sent butterflies through her stomach. They departed lips soon after, and suddenly felt the awkwardness of their situation descending. How would they act in public? Should they tell their families? Should they have anything to do with each other outside of occasional bedroom visits? A childish embarrassment came over them, standing there in the nude, still embracing. They quickly departed, gathering up their clothes, dressing in silence. Ashita knew that he probably wouldn't want to answer, but she had to ask this question.
"How do you want me to act towards you in public?"
Gaara started, as if he had forgotten I was there. He slowly looked over his shoulder, and I could see the wheels whirring behind his tattooed forehead. His eyes glazed over as he thought about it. He stood, walking over to her and holding her to his firm stomach. She wrapped her arms around his waist in response, awaiting her orders. She would have gone to hell and back for this man, done anything to please him. Such was the extent of her unhealthy obsessive love.
"...There's a...festival in Konoha a few days. Would you come as my date?" His voice was hesitant, uncertain. He seemed to be awaiting rejection. Poor little naive Gaara. He would never understand women, even if Ashita and his sister, Temari, attempted to teach him. She picked up her cheek from his digestive system, opting instead to place in her there, grinning up at the red head in pure delight.
"I would be honored." He blinked, and forced out another lopsided, almost scary looking grin. At least it wasn't his usual blood thirsty smile. She stood up on her tip toes, and was met half way by the taller fifteen year old.
Author's Note:
Mm, hope you enjoyed it. This is NOT a one shot, just thought I'd make that clear. It is a story, though how long it will continue I have no idea. The first paragraph was the original summary, before I realized it was too long. Thought I'd keep it in there in case any one was interested. The second paragraph is meant to be a journal entry. You'll see those from time to time. Thanks to Big Sister, my first reviewer, for pointing out that those didn't...really flow. Hopefully, now that they've been explained, it'll make more sense.
UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE, THIS STORY IS ON HOLD. Mostly because I'm still figuring out what exactly I want to do with this story. I WILL update it, eventually, just...not right now.