Summary: He was an artist of sorts. His creativity and lust for death pushing him towards an affinity for the color of blood...Her blood. But perhaps there is something there that lurks deeper than her value as his next baroque. He will just have to wait and see.
Main Pairing: Gaara/Hinata. I'm actually going to try and keep the characters in...character. (crosses fingers) If you see me deviating from that path please tell me...But No Flames! I am sensitive...
Disclaimer: Sadly I cannot claim anything recognizable from the wonderful world of Naruto. It would be nice though, maybe I shall hold onto that wish for the next star I see.
Prolog:
Allure:
Allure - verb; To attract or tempt by something flattering or desirable.
The sand began to stir; around him, within him, it moved with unconscious waves like those of a tide.
Waxing. Waning. The ripples of earth began to pick up the spirits thrill of the fight taking place in the center of the arena. The eighth match of the chunin exams was officially underway.
Concrete walls enclosed the area of battle, lined on two sides by raised platforms designed for spectators and currently non-fighting participants. And this is where he stood, awaiting the moment when he could release and justify his existence.
He watched with atingle, calculating eyes as the elder Hyuuga, Neji supposed genius of his clan, taunted in polemical lilts to his weaker cousin. The words mattered little to him. But the blood-
A shiver of excitement raked down his spine.
Yes the blood, the sweet smell of it. Heavy and metallic, hanging in the air begging to be cradled in the grains of sand that billowed about his person. Sea-foam orbs stared fixedly at the crimson rivulets trailing from the corners of her mouth, staining her teeth as she whispered soundlessly.
She called to him.
Her life called to him, no matter how impotent her abilities or lack there of. A sirens song spinning the most wicked and alluring of melodies. Though the fight was over before it began, she remained resilient. Determined to not be underestimated, even as they raced her seemingly lifeless body out of the arena in the direction of the emergency medical facility.
If recognition was what she sought, her wish was granted.
A/N: I like feedback, and the chapters will be longer after this, that is why they call it a prolog.