Hinata pulled a pair of burgundy corduroy boot-cut skinny pants out from under her sewing machine and eyed the gold lace pattern on the back pocket. It actually looked decent and the two colors went together pleasantly. It was a sort of vibrant day-meets-party look and was nice for someone of young age. She'd have to take risks more often.
Dropping it over her arm, waiter style, she carried it over to the mannequin and slipped the pants over its slip hips. She cocked her head, her overgrown bangs falling to a slant on her pale forehead. The pants, when paired with a black sleeveless turtle neck with ruching at the neckline and black leather booties, it was better than she thought.
The store door opened just as she positioned the mannequin in the shop window. Hanabi cocked her head, looking to the mannequin. "I love the pants, onee-san. Did you just make them?"
"Uh-huh," Hinata mumbled, fiddling with the measuring tape around her neck, staring at the full body mannequin. Her pale eyes lit up and she hurried towards the back, Hanabi following after. She rushed back in and positioned a glittery gold sequined clutch under the mannequin's arm and smiled. "I knew something was missing."
Hanabi raised an eyebrow approvingly. "Very nice, onee-san. It's kind of like a day-time-meets-night-club look. Everyone who's anyone will walk in here right now and order those pants."
Hinata priced the pants and smiled softly. "You think?"
"Think?" Hanabi picked up a pair of folded Cali-wash Capri pants. "I know. Business has been booming and I'm pretty sure you'll be racking in more now that you have those."
Hinata folded up an ocean-blue ruffled blouse with lantern sleeves. "If you so say. I have no problem with it."
She looked to the burgundy walls with their lone stripe of plum going across just a few feet from the floor. "I think the walls need something though."
Hanabi blinked, looking up from holding a black miniskirt to her hips. "What's that? I wasn't listening."
Hinata sighed and headed for the back, near the dressing rooms. "I said the walls need something. Like an outfit needs a purse, you know? But I can't find what I need."
Hanabi glanced towards the walls before folding the skirt and dropping it over her shoulder. "It needs paintings. And good ones." She hopped behind the hostess podium that severed as a register, where Hinata's Lenovo laptop was tucked away safely. "In fact, you can probably find one on your site. You've always gone for the artsy type."
Hinata's head popped around the corner, her brow furrowed in confusion. "My site?"
Hanabi narrowed her eyes and pursed her maroon lips. "Do not tell me you haven't checked your site in over three days."
Hinata looked away, popping back around the corner. "Oh. My . . . page is what you mean."
Hanabi waved her French-manicured hand through the air. "You know what I mean. What I'm asking is have you checked it, at all?"
Hinata's cheeks flushed deep red in embarrassment as she carefully hung up more sweater dresses in bright colors. "I have. Just not recently."
"Let me guess," Hanabi droned, easily accessing her sister's account. "You're so busy with your store that you don't have much time. All you really do is do a quick look-see and forget about it. Am I right, or am I right?"
Hinata kept her back turned, carefully sorting the sizes on the rack. "Well, yes, but you have to understand-,"
"Ooooh!" Hanabi squealed and Hinata swiveled around. Her eyes were wide with shock as she quickly raced over to her sister, only to frown at her laptop."What are you doing?"
"Look!" Hanabi pointed excitedly at the name in the overflowing inbox. "Do you know who he is?"
For a moment, they stared at the name. Hinata bit her lip, shaking her head slowly. Hanabi was going to tell her anyways, like she always did.
"He's Uchiha Sasuke!" Hanabi threw her toned arms up in the air, like his name was common knowledge. And he probably was, just that Hinata didn't usually keep up with what was going on.
Hinata blushed, tugging down the hem of her usual purple sweatshirt and low-rise boot-cut straight jeans (she was getting better about it). "Gomenasi. I don't usually keep up with that sort of thing."
"You don't have to to know about his life, onee-san!" Hanabi shook her head, slipping her oversized Dior butterfly shades up her head. "He's like a legend, Hinata! He's name is just as important as . . . as Neji's!"
Hinata nodded, getting the gist of things. Ever since Neji took her spot as heir to Hyuga Inc., his name just couldn't stop popping up everywhere. Apparently, this "Uchiha Sasuke" was just as important. That was . . . good?
Hanabi clucked her tongue, clicking on the site's match. "I swear onee-san. You can't stay cooped up in your studio apartment and store all the time. If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were creepy."
Hinata blushed deeply, fiddling with the tape measure around her neck. No one had to know her better. They still thought she was creepy, in some weird, artsy way because she made clothing. If she wasn't a man and gay, then she was a woman and weird.
"There," Hanabi smoothed her auburn blow-out, like she was the one getting ready for the date. "You have a date set up for a week from now. But it's not Sasuke, so don't cry. Don't be late or I will make you sorry."
Hinata's mouth dropped open as her sister strutted across the polished bamboo floor. "W-what?"
"Toodles!" Hanabi waved at her and slipped through the frosted glass door, the words H & H Designs allowing her head to be seen.
Hinata blew out a bout of air, ruffling her bangs. "Wonderful. Now I have one more thing on my hands."
-
Sasuke's eyebrow twitched as he listened to the woman (Was her name Yuki? Maybe it was Yuri) in front of him chatter on and on. In fact, for the last twenty minutes of their luncheon, she had done nothing but talk, all the while shoveling crème into her glossy mouth. She was good-looking, with a short, jet-black pixie cut, and dressed nice enough, but she was annoying as hell. In fact, he was thinking of cutting this thing short by an hour and fifteen minutes.
He leaned back in his seat and dropped his napkin on the table, getting ready to tell her to shut the fuck up. But then he thought of Naruto's bet and grinded his teeth. God, he was a sucker. And a stupid one at that. Who the hell ever took Naruto's challenge? No one but a fuckhead, that's who. He guessed he was that fuckhead for the moment being.
The things I get myself into, he sighed, rubbing his neck and checking his Gucci watch. If it weren't for this bet, he could be at home right now, sipping on a cup of black coffee with sugar and finishing up his latest project. Not listening to a woman (Maybe it was Yuji now that he thought about it) babble about her trips to France and the states.
His eyes scanned the restaurant discreetly, hoping to find something worth his time. Yuji kept babbling, now finished with her crème and leaning forward. He had to refrain from rolling his eyes at her pathetic attempt. The keyhole in her in purple cap-sleeve blouse wasn't even worth looking at. The only reason she was cut from her baby-face, which she highlighted and used to her advantage. Especially the freckles.
He shifted in his chair and reached for his coffee, checking his watch discreetly. Another hour to go. He could handle it. He could definitely handle it.
About midway through her sentence, a good fifty minutes later, he stood up, abruptly cutting her off. His nerves had been grinded down to nubs and he was sure that if he kept clenching his jaw, it'd be broken from pressure in another twenty minutes. Plus, his latest painting was nagging him. It was whispering in his ear and dammit, he needed to get back and finish the damn thing. This was the exact reason why he rarely left his apartment in the middle of a project.
Yuji looked up at him, her face contorted in confusion. He was sure everyone was watching him. Too bad he wasn't known for his easy let-downs.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked her right in the eyes. "I'm sorry, but I just remembered, I have better things to do." Turning on the heel of his leather shoes, he just barely heard the hurt gasp coming from her. Hell, it didn't even bother him. He was just telling the truth. He had better things to do, like finishing his latest painting. If he didn't get a black coffee with exactly four teaspoons of sugar soon, he was going to be the pissy one all night.
Everyone's eyes were on him as he jangled his keys in his pocket and swept out of the door. Fuck them all. They could glare at him all they wanted. He didn't give a damn, because sooner or later, they'd get over themselves. They'd be all over his picture in their glossy gossip magazines, ooohing and ahhhing when he came out with his latest masterpiece.
What-the-fuck-ever.
Slipping into his Lamborghini, he pulled out of the parking lot and hit the road. They were all probably in there, comforting the "poor thing" because her precious date had left her for "something better to do." All he was doing was telling the truth-
The familiar vibrating of his Nokia N75 and flipped it open, pressing it to his ear. "What?"
"Dude!" Naruto said, with is usual annoying peppiness. "Where are you? Did the date go well, or did you just get up and leave . . . again?"
Sasuke's eye twitched as he glared out his windshield. "Why do you want to know? It's my damn business."
"Hey, hey," Naruto was probably smirking on his side. Damn him. "I'm just saying. The way you're going, you're gonna run out of redos pretty soon-,"
Sasuke snapped the phone shut and dumped it onto his leather seat next to him. Naruto didn't know half of what was going. He'd probably join right in with Yuji's babbling, probably overriding her talking. They'd be a perfect match, he thought sourly, scowling as he drove.
Stalking past the perky receptionist of his condo, he jammed his finger into the elevator button. That painting of his was waiting and he was in need of a black coffee with four teaspoons of sugar. He'd be up all night, trying to get his shit down. And all because of stupid Naruto. One of these days, he was going to kick his blond ass.
He dropped his sports jacket on the chocolate brown couch and only after making his coffee, flipped open his Sony laptop. Naruto would be nagging him for the rest of night for not checking his stupid inbox. The damn site let people make matches themselves, and it also made matches itself. So far, his inbox had been filled with nothing but wishful women and there's only actually a handful he had gone through.
Still pissy about earlier, he practically deleted everything in his way. Until he says the one match the site had made for him. Raising an elegant eyebrow, he propped his feet up on the glass table, sipping on his coffee.
Her name was Hyuga Hinata, and her page was decent. She wasn't painfully pretty, just in a sort of everyday way. A way he could get just along with. She was quiet, timid (that's what she wrote, not his words) and a big fan of surprises. And she was a fashion designer . . . that wore sweatpants.
Nice.
Next on his list, Hyuga Hinata.
Ooooooooh! That's what you're thinking. I know you are. Sorry this took me so long. I couldn't find any anspiration until today (like after 2 months, right?)
So, here it is! Do you like it? I hope so^^ R&R Please and Thank You!
