Title: Moments in Time: A Close Up
Author: AppleL0V3R
Beta-reader: Terror-Of-The-Crimson-Night
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Uchiha, Itachi and Haruno, Sakura
Chapter: Eight – #2 Touch: Watery
Rating: T
Type: One-shot – Complete
Summary: Prompts from Moments in Time that I was requested to expand on. 8. 2 – Touch: Watery. Just like the water. Warm and Cold. Smothering and embracive. He was both always both.
Word Count: 1,030
Disclaimer: If you've heard of it before, then it's obviously not mine.
Note: As the summary states these were skits I was asked to turn into actually works. I will always put which one it was and the skit just before the chapter. They won't be in numerical order because I'm doing them as I'm requested. They won't be any more than one-shots though they may become two to five –shots (I will forewarn when that happens) but they won't become stories unless I choose to.
I realize this one is a lot shorter than all my others, but I really don't want to extend the length of this one – my brain doesn't like the idea and isn't functioning properly at the moment anyway. So, just bare with me on this one and the next one will be back to my usual word count range.
Request by: Fuai
..:Xx0o0xX:..
2. Touch (Sakura)
His touch was feather-light; like he was afraid she would break. She wouldn't. He was the one with a chronic incurable disease. Not her. He was the one losing his eyesight at an alarming rate. Not her. So why be so gentle when everything about him was jagged in one way or another?
"Blossom." She almost didn't hear him. And she wouldn't have, had he not had his lips pressed against her ear.
"Love?" How was it she could hardly feel him when he was completely wrapped around her?
He shook his head.
"You can hold tighter."
A corner of his mouth lifted and he squeezed, but he didn't hold tighter.
She shook her head, quietly laughing. At least he'd always be here. Beside her.
..:Xx0o0xX:..
Hailing from the Uchiha clan, and even being the heir to it, meant that it was expected he specialized in fire. What most didn't know or didn't realize was that he also specialized in water. Just one of the many paradoxes of him. He was destructive like fire, alive like fire. But he was calm like water, lager than life like water. The more she got to know him though, the more she found him to be like water in almost every way.
Water was truly his element.
She knew she was one of the very few who would know that though, Itachi tended to guard most of his abilities – especially strengths and weaknesses. He was a brilliant tactician aware that the best strengths were also one's worst weaknesses.
And she was one of them.
She didn't mind though. It meant he trusted her explicitly, with his body, life and even his entire heart. And he had hers. But that wasn't publicly known either.
She knew all of his secrets, all the regrets and prideful points in his life. Including the fact that he'd almost agreed to massacre his clan, that he was dying and going blind at the same time. It killed her to know all those things, it killed her heart to think that if she could do something – if she didn't stop it before it was too late – that he would forever be out of her reach.
But even with that knowledge, she freely gave everything to him, allowed him into every crack of her life. Because she cherished him, everything about him and she wouldn't give him up for the world.
And moments like these where they could just lie in bed together for a little longer – neither having to work for the day though they'd both still end up having to get up – were some of those bright points that she knew would never dim. Nothing would with him next to her, with him with her.
His touch was feather-light – it always was, never rough or too tangible – like he was afraid she would break. She wouldn't, they both knew that. He was the one with a chronic incurable disease, the one she was still working on a cure for though she didn't even know exactly what his disease was. Not her. He was the one losing his eyesight at an alarming rate, it didn't matter how many times she told him to use it minimally. Not her.
So why be so gentle when everything about him was jagged in one way or another? Because he was, jagged and prickly. But graceful and smooth too. How paradoxical of him.
"Blossom." She almost didn't hear him. And she wouldn't have, had he not had his lips pressed against her ear as he breathed the nickname that he so favored for her.
"Love?" How was it she could hardly feel him when he was completely wrapped around her?
He shook his head. She smiled knowing he'd said the nickname – the one he wouldn't say unless he was absolutely sure it was just the two of them – because he could and he wanted to.
"You can hold tighter, you know." She remarked lightly, not really inclined to move away from her spot on his bed, curled against his side with her head on his bare chest.
A corner of his mouth lifted and he squeezed, but he didn't hold tighter.
Her smile widened as she shook her head, quietly laughing.
The first strands of light were finding their way between the curtains and onto the wooden floor across the room.
It was moments like these that hardened her resolve to halt all those health problems he had, to turn them around and beat them into nothing like she did when dealing with a patient on the verge of death. If she could do that, she could do this. All she needed was time she might not have.
But that was okay because at least he'd always be here. Beside her. And she refused to leave him, not ever.
