Again, I'm not funny, so don't expect much from the humor genre.
TITLE: Tutor 4
PAIRING(S): GaaMei, (TsuJirai)
GENRE: Romance, (Humor)
RATING: K+ (for drinking)
The Sabaku siblings had apparently taken a vacation to another country for a couple months, leaving Mei feeling a bit lost in her weekly routine. Instead of spending two hours with Gaara twice a week, she had gaps to fill which she tried to fill, at first, with friends. She found herself missing his eyes, no matter how detached they were. Green seemed to stand out to Mei wherever she went, especially towards the end of the first month when even the grass started to glint in the sunlight brighter than before.
She felt ridiculous for getting attached. It was clear enough that Gaara wasn't particularly fond of her, his latest insults including an array of things to call the brown belt she wore across her waist. He had the nerve to call it a fanny pack when it was most certainly not, but it had prompted her to stop wearing it in his absence. If he ever saw her giving in, he'd gain even more confidence and she hated to see that in his usually blank eyes.
Mei had even started leaving her hair down, without the top-knot. The dark blue band she used to tie it up was now around her wrist, never leaving in case she ran into someone who would rat her out to Gaara and he would give her a look that meant he had won. And he hadn't won a single thing, besides occupying Mei's thoughts.
She felt even more foolish because he was five years younger, practically young enough to be her baby brother. There was even more difference between the two of them than him and Temari, and she really was his sister. Mei sighed, gaining the attention of the friend who had dragged her out of the house that day.
"Hey, hey, hey, there is no sighing when you're drinking, Mei-chan!" Tsunade's demanding presence burst through her lonely thoughts, bringing Mei back to her current situation. The buxom blonde sitting next to her at the bar was Senju Tsunade, a dear friend who was also a heavy drinker at the young age of twenty-six. She was in a nearby college studying medicine, a far cry from Mei's French, but they'd ended up friends anyway.
Tsunade hit her on the back playfully, not knowing her own strength and nearly sending Mei flying out of her seat. "Drink, drink!" the blonde pressed, holding a shot glass full of a clear liquid in front of the younger woman.
Eyeing it for a moment, Mei took what she assumed to be vodka and downed it in one quick gulp, earning and an enthusiastic cheer from Tsunade.
"Atta girl!" she praised, calling for the bartender to bring more.
"I have school tomorrow," Mei said to try and make amends for what she'd just consumed. She never had a very high tolerance for alcohol and knew that it would be kicking in within the next ten minute, whether she drank more or not.
"So do we," said a deep voice in her left ear. The younger woman flinched away, recognizing the white-haired man immediately. His name was Jiraiya, a drinking partner of Tsunade who she jumped out of her seat to embrace. "I can't believe you started without me!"
"We were tired of waiting," huffed Tsunade, her cheeks tinged pink from the liquids she was downing like a dehydrated horse. Mei smiled a little, thinking that if Tsunade heard that analogy, she'd surely smack Mei without even thinking twice. The blonde shot her a curious look, stopped short from asking when the auburn-haired woman yelped, leaping out of her seat.
Mei turned back around calmly, smiling sweetly at Jiraiya. "If you grab my ass one more time, I'll kill you."
The older man laughed, taking her spot and earning a slap on the arm from Tsunade. "The hell'd you do tha' for!" the blonde slurred. "Now I'm gon' lose my Mei-chaaan."
Mei wondered when she'd drank that much already. Sending a wary glare in Jiraiya's direction, she reached towards her drink at the table, quickly throwing it to the back of her throat so she wouldn't have to taste the bitter alcohol. She did again with two more that were sitting there, probably meant for Tsunade but Mei wasn't going to stay.
Tsunade's eyes widened hopefully, but she shook her head. "That's all for me," Mei said with a final grin and an added wink towards Jiraiya. "Treat her right, old man."
"Old man my ass," he snorted, just loudly enough for Mei to hear before the door to the bar shut behind her. She could also hear Tsunade's drunken whining but couldn't make out the words.
Vodka was not something Mei usually drank, preferring traditional Japanese drinks like sake, and it took effect much quicker and stronger than she'd expected. The street tilted in a strange, warped way and her body found a wall very quickly. She didn't move until everything was done spinning so much and then she pushed herself off it, seeing everything in a curved, fish-eye view. It took a lot of concentration to walk straight long enough to get to the next support and even longer to get home.
Of course, when she thought she'd reached her apartment, the street sign told her otherwise. Mei had wandered in the complete opposite direction. She whimpered pathetically, bunching her long, auburn hair into her hand and pulling it over her shoulder. It laid there like a blanket, keeping the fall chill away for the most part. Summer was only just ending so her favorite blue dress didn't leave her too exposed to the cold.
All thoughts disappeared from her mind in one instant, leaving only the fog that the alcohol caused, dulling her senses. Despite that, the eyes that were on the other side of the street, waiting to cross, were green with no pupils—there was no mistaking it. When the eyes started to cross, identifying the lack of cars appropriately, everything else came into view. Brick-red spiky hair, a little longer once again to cover the markings on his head that she never really saw. An unapproachable man walked towards her.
"Boy," she corrected herself in a slow, soft whisper.
Gaara was in front of her now, watching his tutor leaning drunkenly against a street sign with mild interest, something she'd never seen from him. A little embarrassed, Mei spun around the pole and hugged it, hiding her face. Nothing happened for a couple seconds longer, and then something cold gripped her hand, removing it from the pole. The feeling shocked Mei, drawing a gasp from the woman as she unlatched herself from the pole to face the coldness.
But it was nothing more than Gaara's slender, pale fingers, which she examined with amazement. They were holding her hand away from him, up a little. It felt like that limp hand in his grip wasn't hers, a giggle bubbling up at this thought. She realized that Gaara was staring at her and not their hands, so she faced him fearlessly.
"What?" Mei demanded, a little louder than she'd meant to say.
"You're drunk," he noted, lowering her hand.
She nodded miserably, pointing with a jelly-like arm to the street sign.
"You're lost," Gaara interpreted.
She nodded again, letting her arm flop back down. Mei's mouth hung open for a while before words came out. "You… here, why?" was all she managed to get out.
Gaara gazed past her, to the market she'd passed, and she was about to tell him to do whatever it was he'd set out to do, but then he looked back down at her. In heels, she actually amounted to a greater height than Gaara. Her tiredness caused her to slump, putting her at eye-level. She couldn't escape his green eyes that had been everywhere for the past two months or so. How long was he really gone.
"Why are you drunk?" he finally asked.
Her words didn't come, so she whimpered and shook her head.
A barely noticeable sigh left Gaara's lips. She blamed the alcohol for her hallucination, cursing it even more when Gaara said, "I'll take you home." Mei continued shaking her head until he grabbed it between his hands. She gasped.
"What is your address?"
Mei rattled it off without really thinking about it, feeling as if she'd just slipped into a dream, especially when Gaara's colder hand gripped her again and yanked her along behind the boy. She followed, whether she wanted to or not because of his strong grip. For such delicate fingers, she hadn't expected any force to come out of them. By the time they were at her door, Mei still hadn't sobered enough to get her keys.
"They're in my fanny pack," she grumbled at the stairs of her two-story building.
"…you're not wearing it."
"Because you told me it was ugly!" Mei snapped unhappily.
"I said no such thing," Gaara defended, his voice even. She cursed him for being so composed all the time even though he was so much younger. How he managed to get the door open, Mei was too drunk to recall, but he led her inside. The first floor consisted of a staircase and a small closet to the right. Mei fell over on her crawl up the stairs, almost crying at her failure.
Without saying anything, Gaara tore the shoes off her feet, breaking the straps in the process and flinging them into the closet. Mei stared, not sure how to react until his arms were under her, lifting Mei off the stairs. She shrieked for a very short moment, stopping when she caught Gaara's eyes. They were on her the entire time, showing nothing, absolutely nothing.
She wasn't sure how they ended up in her room. She hadn't said a word of direction. The boy made to set her down, stumbling in a way that was surprisingly ungraceful and causing him to land with his hands on either side of Mei's limp, sleeping form. He watched her chest rise and fall gently, making sure that she really was asleep before pushing up off the bed.
Gaara stayed there for a bit longer, wondering if he shoulder put a blanket over her, but decided against it. He didn't want to snoop around. Why had he felt the need to go and get ginger ale so badly that night when there was plenty of other drinks in the house but no, right then, he really wanted ginger ale? Maybe he so desperately craved ginger ale because some part of him knew it would lead him straight to Mei, the smiling woman who he, who never felt anything, had actually missed.
He shook his head, thinking how stupid she was for taking her hair down and removing her belt, just because he commented on them. Did she even smile at him? Her sleeping face was serene, leaving him feeling a little better that she was dreaming well as he left.
