[Please Read and Review to motivate me to continue writing! :) I'm actually working on a lot of fiction right now, but I'm driven to complete this one because I have so many ideas and I'm really loving how it's going! I hope you do too.
Thanks for reading
-LovelyWrath]
Sakura's breath hitched in her throat and her heart pounded. A million thoughts raced through her head all at once, making her feel unsteady. Above all, she was alone with Gaara, whom she was mostly sure that she trusted, but this situation... it was something entirely unexpected, completely irrational, overwhelming her senses and her rationality. Danger, but not life-threatening, something new. Another kind of danger entirely, frighteningly delicious. Her eyes drifted shut and she internally braced herself.
Gaara leaned in close, and she could feel the heat resonating from his body. He watched her expressions change, and realized that she seemed like a bird what would take flight given the chance. He didn't relish the thought of her slipping away from him, leaping out the window or through the door, and running away, and because of his actions. It made his chest hurt. This foreign sensation wasn't enjoyable. She began to appear more and more like a wild bird to him- he would only build cage for her. But to what end? Gaara, knowing the broken state of his own soul, could only offer such a beautiful creature trouble and pain.
While Sakura's thoughts were a fog, driving her to inaction, frozen before him, supreme guilt attacked Gaara, blindsiding him. There were many words to describe the actions of a brother who makes a move on his sibling's prospective prize- betrayal was at the top of that list of words. With this thought, Gaara carefully extracted himself from the situation, beginning by tearing his gaze from her face.
Mere seconds seemed like an eternity to Sakura, until she felt him move away, and opened her eyes to observe his expression as it changed. He shifted then turned his body to face the window, his arms falling to his sides. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and leaning toward the window.
The creases that formed upon his forehead confirmed the sudden troubles that had invaded his world. His muscles tensed throughout his body, and she felt his chakra shift as it began to reach, search, and investigate.
Sakura's throat felt dry, but she finally mustered words, "What's going on..?" She tried, but she couldn't sense anything particularly close to them that could be considered a threat. However, long distance detection wasn't her specialty, and she certainly wouldn't be reliable with her body still alarmed by his previous behavior. Goosebumps rose from her skin, and she folded her arms to warm herself, shivering.
Gaara grit his teeth and exhaled through them in a hiss, looking pained. He grasped the frame of the building opening tightly and inhaled again. Sakura tensed in response, growing more alert and confused, and ready for anything unrelated to whatever just happened between them.
"The sands are shifting... I need to check the perimeter of the city. You are dismissed." He stepped out into the night and was engulfed in a swirl of sand in an instant. Sakura felt the air shift and a fresh breeze caressed her skin. She shivered again.
Dismissed? For whatever reason, it caused a pang in her heart. What an awkward situation, all around. "What was that all about," she quietly asked herself as she turned to face the lonely room. Her thoughts were jumbled, going in all directions.
When her legs would allow it, she moved to his desk, where the barely touched tray of food still waited. She unfolded the cloth napkin that Temari'd sent with the food and carefully covered the dishes as best she could. She made her way out of the room and closed the door gently behind her before making the awkward trek back downstairs, where she'd pretend nothing happened before a not-so-convinced Temari, who would write it off as the general fluster that Gaara caused most people.
The cool nights were always a relief to Suna, when the days were so deathly hot, dry, and unbearable. Gaara always found the sands to be most calming, and on a night with a clear sky, he could lay on the roof for hours and listen to the stirring sands as the night winds made movement over the desert.
But it wasn't the rooftop that Gaara occupied this evening, but a cliff side overlooking Suna as a whole. He sat precariously on the edge, with his legs danging over the air below, without concern that he'd fall to his death- that was an impossibility. This desert was his. The sands were his. This land could not harm him.
He peered out over the city, his city. Lights flickered in windows, lanterns hung from various vendor establishments and over main streets. The streets were quite populated after dusk, unlike during midday when many preferred to remain out of the sun and indoors during the high heat seasons. He could hear music in the distance, from a popular venue where people flocked at night for food cooked over an open flame, choice beverages. There were people laughing and dancing- his people.
This was all familiar to Gaara. Suna, the sands, and the passing of time. Gaara grasped a palm full of sand and tossed it out over the emptiness, watched as the wind caught the granules and carried them away. The desert night relieved him from paperwork, faces, and harsh daily routines. The desert kept him sane when the memories flooded in.
There was a time when he didn't look at his home this way, with care. Many of the times before he woke up and began to value his village and his own life he wished he didn't remember. Attacking everyone, looking for a real challenge, looking for a path better than his own- the mangled destructive creed of his childhood and adolescence. He'd trampled many lives during that wild stage of his life, and even Sakura had been a witness to that chaos.
Even so, like Naruto, Sakura was able to put aside the past and believe in the good in someone so destructive. Gaara remembered vividly the day he awoke to the pink-haired beauty as she healed him. It was her duty, her order, however, it was intimate, he could tell. He remembered Chiyo once mentioning that deep wounds and invasive procedures were difficult enough to heal, but were less successfully overcome if the healer had to battle their own emotions while doing the job. So a really great healer would not only be well-trained and knowledgeable, not only be strong and capable, but also be able to look at someone and truly care for their well-being, even if it meant putting aside old emotions and forgiving the patient.
Forgiveness wasn't something Gaara allowed himself. As far as he was concerned, there was only remorse and good deeds as repentance for his shortcomings.
Sakura was hard not to think about at this time, when he had been so close to her. Gaara wasn't often in close contact with anyone besides Temari and Kankuro. He'd never sat at an informal dinner with anyone else. His history of physical contact was always during combat, never for pleasure.
He remembered the first time he'd touched Naruto after his outlook on life had been changed. When he shook Naruto's hand that sorrowful day outside of Suna, he was enlightened further by human contact.
Gaara held his hand up to inspect it in the moonlight. That same hand that had first confirmed Gaara's friendship with Naruto had reached out for Sakura. He could still remember from that brief encounter, exactly what her skin felt like. It was inviting. Gaara allowed himself to agree that Sakura was indeed a rare beauty, and very much exotic to Suna. Perhaps that had been part of why he'd been so curious of her. His attention wasn't meant to be threatening, and while Sakura hadn't defended herself from him or taken flight, Gaara was sure he'd frightened her by his actions. Actions driven by curiosity, and attraction. It was absolutely no good for the Kazekage not to be in complete control of his own actions.
That will not do, he told himself. He rose to his feet, assuring himself that from now on, he would avoid further issues of this type, even it it meant avoiding Konoha's pink-haired beauty. He leaned forward, allowed himself to slip from the edge of the cliff and fall several feet before sand enveloped him and moved him toward his destination-home.
