I think I told Marcab (who I'll add in my thanks) once that I would write some shoujo-ai. I'm not sure if I was serious at the time, but the mood struck me, and, well...don't hurt me! Anyway...there...I warned you. Kakashi's Dog: I will readily admit to being lazy...sorry. :cringe: I'm really planning on updating more-really! We'll see how that goes though... P SasukeNarutoYaoiFan: Aww, thank you! I probably will write SasuNaru, I love it, although I've seen so much great stuff I'm almost afraid to even touch it. BTW, people...for some reason, my review replies aren't working right now.
Disclaimer: Uh, don't exactly own...don't exactly want to be sued however...
On a winter day of the softest variety, the cleanest, coldest white that makes everything warm and loving, Ino is curled up under a blanket with her best friend, arms around each other and conversation drifting.
Ino shuffles to make herself more comfortable, while Sakura does the same, and somehow their faces end up far too close. Something in her shivers, telling her to pull back, and somewhere in her thought process, the message is lost and her body instead chooses to do the opposite. But Sakura is moving too, and quite quickly and abruptly their lips are touching. Ino can't figure out who started it or whether it's an accident, and while she attempts to puzzle it out, the other girl is already drawing back, eyes very wide. There isn't enough time to feel much of anything except shock, and an awkward staredown ensues, Ino's mind racing for a way to break this terrifying silence. She wonders if Sakura is unnerved to the same extent.
"Hah! I certainly hope that Sasuke-kun's kisses will taste better than that!" Ino cries, laughing mockingly to mask the vulnerable feeling creeping up through her chest and threatening to settle on her features.
"Well, that's not something you'll ever know, is it?" Sakura shoots back, but her sneer appears equally manufactured.
Time-worn taunts are thrown out and soon the room is filled with noise and giggling once more, but Ino can't seem to hear any of it. Memories of the kiss (if one could even call it that, in the loosest sense of the word) are taking up most of the room in her mind, and the spaces in between are filled with questions frantically floating upwards, all of it colored by a dizzy, confused giddiness.
So she jumps up under the excuse of "making us some tea", but really sits in the kitchen for a while, hand smoothing her perfect hair and trying to slow her breathing.