Summary: The sky is as endless as it is beautiful, and it is forever streaked with tangerine dreams.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Note: For the Iruka x Temari challenge, on the Naruto Pairings Challenge forum moderated by fauxPROJECT.

Theme: Love Handles.

Apricot Sky

Love Handles

Temari knew from day one.

She had (undeniably, irrevocably, unconditionally) fallen in love with possibly the stupidest male on the planet besides Naruto. Except, well, Naruto had more redeeming qualities, to be (perfectly) brutally honest. Naruto had a winning way with words, a bright smile and wasn't in the least pathetically weak. In the case of his teacher; Iruka was too soft spoken for his own good, his smile was gormless and revealed so little that she hated it when she realised it was so happy, and the only techniques he knew were by-the-book and outdone easily by anyone with flair or even some ounce of common sense. Yet, for all the faults she felt existed in him and she knew she could list easily, she could never find the gall to complain about even one of them. They were, essentially, what made him what he was, which she believed to be a emotional lump of rubbish, to tell the truth.

"So, why do you love me?" He asked one night, playing with her four loosening ponytails. She slapped his hands away harshly, ignoring the fact he could not see her face and scowling to herself in a ugly manner. He shouldn't have been there, really. But she hadn't been able to resist giving him the number of her hotel room, just like she hadn't been able to resist removing his innocent look for herself. That had been six months ago, and it had since become a routine.

"Who says I love you?" She retorted stubbornly. She didn't like him, or understand him. She knew more of pottery and dolls, makeup and embroidery than she knew of him. That fact alone was beginning to get to her. But two things she did know was that he was always unnecessarily truthful, and that somehow in his own odd way he always managed to hit the nail on the head without her giving away anything whatsoever.

"I'll tell you why I love you, then." He replied, polite and unfazed by her spiteful attitude. A persistent little bugger, wasn't he? She mulled over dark thoughts as he began playing with her hair again gently, not really having the energy (or the heart) to snap at him again.

"Go ahead." She muttered, staring at the blank cream walls in front of her. What did she care about what he thought about her? Probably, she knew, a whole damn lot. Not that she would tell him that. His ego had already been inflated enough, not by her nonexistent words of praise, but by her lack of argument as to why.

"You're beautiful, and you always will be. Even in twenty years with babies babies, even when you have love handles, and even when you get old. When you're sick, or grey haired, or anything. To me, nothing will change." He told her quietly, finally releasing her hair from the ties that held it up. Temari never knew herself to be an emotional person, but she recognised what was happening. A lump was building in her throat, her lips were quivering and her eyes stung. She had always been the older sister. The callous sand woman. The powerful fighter. The terrifying bone-breaker. The wind wielder. The intelligent strategist. The ugly. Never, not once, could she ever remember being called beautiful. Her voice broke even as she tried to be sarcastic, tears suddenly fighting to break free after being trapped for so long all at once in a massive rush. She bit her lip as she tried to salvage whatever dignity she had left.

"Pregnant, fat and old? You find that attractive?"

Because Temari is very pretty, even with her odd look. Yet Iruka to me would be a hopeless romantic, and find her more beautiful than anything. Because that, my friends, is just the way Iruka is. On another note, I need to apologise to the challenge giver Demonic Angel Clone. I got the first word of the previous theme wrong, so the drabble now seems sort of irrelevant. Silly of me. Very silly.

Reviews are loved. :)