"Deidara," I breathed. He stared at me blankly for a moment. "Who're you?" He said bluntly, obviously shameless at the concept of admitting he doesn't recognize me in the least. Which cuts me on some level, but doesn't surprise me at all. After all I've never actually spoken to him, no, I just sit behind him and stare. So I suppose it's reasonable that he wouldn't know who I was. "My name's Sasori," I explain. "I'm in lit class with you?" I finished as more of a question, as if to jog his memory. A pondering look falls over his face, and I can't decide whether to be awed or to laugh. It's an adorable expression on the blonde, really, though at the same time I can't help but admire the raw beauty behind it, in his features. "Oh yeah," He begins. "I think I remember you."
I offer a small smile at this notion, but inside I feel my guts twist at how pathetic I am. He is all I even come to school for anymore, I'm obsessed with him, I watch him every moment of every opportunity, and when I do not have the opportunity to do that, he consumes my thoughts, yet he didn't even know my name until about two minutes ago. He turned and sits n the ground next to an array of clay sculptures. I walk up next to him and observe the tiny figurines. "Did you do these?" I inquire he looks up and nods, a wide grin overcoming his face. "Yeah." He answers less-than-elegantly. An artist. He's an artist. Not only an artist but a sculptor. Could he be anymore perfect? Apparently my gawking showed because he looked at me strangely, and I eventually snapped out of it when he spoke. "Sasori no Danna?" He asked, what startled me was the overly-polite way he addressed me. "What?" I asked, he repeated himself, but I decided I liked the honorifics, so I didn't comment on them.
"So, you're an artist?" I confirm, kneeling beside Deidara and taking one of the statues into my hand. They are abstract to say the least, but they all resemble birds, which I suppose explains his fascination with the birds outside the classroom window. They are his inspiration. Deidara nods. "Yeah, art is the best thing in the world, un." I second that notion, personally. Deidara looks shocked for a brief moment and quickly snatches up his gloves from the ground, wiggling his fingers into the cut-offs alarmingly fast. I frown at this, I've always thought they were a fashion statement, or just something he liked to wear, but he'd seemed so hurried I'm beginning to think he's hiding something. Although I haven't the slightest idea as to what.
A few minutes pass in silence, myself staring at the small white bird in my hands , and then at it's creator in repetitive process, and the blonde in question staring at the sky.
"So," I begin, he looks over at me to acknowledge. "What's up with you and the Uchihas? Are you three friends?" I ask, mentally berating myself for verbalizing my possessiveness over him. Sure, it's invasive, and it's really none of my business but if I don't learn now, I'll never know. I reason. Deidara looks unfazed, however. "Not really, why?'
"Oh, it's just, I noticed you passing notes with Itachi, but you two usually seem so hostile." Deidara's face turned a little pink at that comment. "So you noticed that, huh? I guess we weren't as discreet as I thought, un." I shook my head 'no', and Deidara continued. "Well, we really don't get long that well. Today was an anniversary, was all, and they both remembered. Sasuke and Itachi, that is." He elaborated, but I didn't need him to. Perhaps I might've, if I didn't carefully absorb hi every interaction, including the one he'd had with Sasuke this morning. I shouldn't push, I know that. I'm asking too many questions for a first meeting, I should shut-up before I creep him out. I should just enjoy the opportunity to be so close to him, but I don't. "What's it the anniversary of?" I ask. It seems like an innocent enough question. A hazy, nostalgic look comes over Deidara's eyes, then, and instantly the warning bells start going off in my head. "My father's death," he says. I'm suddenly overcome with the urge to throw myself off the roof of the building, and end the cruel irony in my life, but I settle for just listening to Deidara as he speaks again. "He died two years ago today."
"I'm sorry," I say for lack of better answer. "Don't be." Deidara replies, his tone strangely lighthearted. I look at him, puzzled and he gives me a graceful shrug of his shoulders. "I'm not." My reply comes out considerably more dumb than I'd intended as I answer with. "Oh." I want to ask why, or how the man had died, anything to answer the questions buzzing in my head. I don't this time, though, I keep my mouth shut as I know I should. After another few moments of silence, my mind stumbles across yet another question. "If you and the Uchihas aren't close, how'd they know about today?"
"Itachi and I were together back then," he answers without shame or hesitation. "He was there with me when it happened." I am floored, in the very instant I am shell-shocked by this information, I'm also overwhelmed by jealousy, and a hint of complete outrage. I force myself not to show it, but inside my head is reeling. They were together? What exactly does that mean?! Dating? Screwing? In love?? Was it just 'friends with benefits', or were they serious? If Itachi touched him I'll kill him.
Now, killing someone for touching, kissing, or even deflowering someone who was their own boyfriend at the time may seem unfair. But it's not. I mean, how DARE he?! He doesn't deserve Deidara, and he didn't back then, either. My mind is still scrolling through endless simulations of what they might've done together, and what kind of terms they parted on. Exactly how long did this last, anyway? I think. Then it occurs to me. It IS over, isn't it?!
"You all aren't still together are you?" I ask abruptly, not even stopping to check the words before they pass through my lips. Deidara blinks in response to my sudden interrogation. "Well," He begins uncertainly. His tone is screaming "I don't know how to break this to you, BUT". I don't like that reaction.
At all.