I never will be able to say what it is I like best about her. When you love someone, truly love every part of them, you cannot say "What I love most about her is her kindness," or "It is her beauty that attracts me the most." I simply love her, all of her, and that is all there is to it.
If, however, I had to pick what I liked best about being with her, it would be the silences.
I know this sounds strange, but it is the truth. Other people feel the need for constant laughter or conversation, and around them, silence feels strained, uncomfortable. But Hinata has a way of simply sitting in silence that makes the room feel as calm and gentle as her own personality. With her, silences are soothing, and provide everything that words cannot.
I have not much use for words, beyond those that are necessary. I communicate, rather, with my silences, one thoughtful, another brooding, yet another sad. These are the best ways that I know, but most humans, with their brains filled with crazed, buzzing words, can make no sense of them. My sister can read me a bit, and, surprisingly, so can Naruto, who talks so much himself. But Hinata… she speaks and hears and understands our secret, subtle language. She understands me, and I understand her.
All my life, I have felt as if I am isolated, the only person in the world. But with her, I feel like we are the only people in the world, and it makes all the difference. If I were to never do anything again but sit quietly and look into her soft eyes, I would be content. I need nothing else. Even just sitting with her, I feel like it is so much more than I deserve, almost as if I should be punished for being this happy, for being content as the sinful, cursed creature that I am. So every touch, every kiss, is tainted with agony, knowing that she deserves so much better than everything I can give her. But if I tell her this, she says that in all the world, she needs nothing but my love. It is difficult to believe her, but still, horrible, selfish monster that I am, I let myself love her.
At night, she lies beside me, her face inches from mine. I gently trace the contour of her jaw with the tip of my finger, careful not to wake her.
"Gaara," she breathes, still asleep, and, not by the word, but by the silence that follows, I can tell that she loves me, too.