Help Wanted
Chapter Twelve – Same As You
Dedicated to crazee (Guest)
"No one can take this from you. No, can't carry this for you. But you can stand if you want to, or fall if you want to, I do feel same as you."
— The Fray, Same as You
Beyond the drawn drapes at Tenten's window, bright streaks of red, pink, and orange were devouring the dark blue and purple of the twilight sky. The sun lurked behind mountains―masking the full extent of its radiance in a suit of green foliage―instead, choosing to send prying golden rays to assess accurately, when dawn should pounce.
Then it attacked, in a burst of light and warmth as morning claimed the skies and everything below. The retreating stillness was a battle cry in its self as the hum of moving traffic gradually overcame the static world. It was a battle between night and day―the victor already declared by time.
Tenten's first thought upon awakening was that she seemed to be suffering from the worst hangover in her entire life. The throbbing in her head was such that it felt like a dozen or more tiny people were wielding hammers against her skull. It was worse than any blow she had ever sustained to the head, she mused. With a pained groan, she attempted to ease herself from the pillow. The hammers pounded even more violently.
"It's about time you got up—"
A lump lodged itself in her throat and she went as stiff as a statue, certain she paled enough to camouflage herself against the white sheets. She would be able to pick out that deep, drugging voice from the loudest and noisiest of uproars—possibly even without the ability to hear. It's timbre vibrated against her skin, seeped through her pores and chilled her to the bones.
She felt his presence—could sense it anywhere. The air seemed to thicken whenever he was near. After all, what else could account for the way she had to fight for her every breath?
"—we've got a busy day scheduled."
Tenten didn't like the sound of that.
Itachi should not—absolutely should not—be in her bedroom with her. Shock. Panic. Fear ran through her. And—far more powerful than any of those—loathing. Black, virulent loathing. That despicable man! Who knew what kind of punishment he planned to exact on her for her antics last night.
Everything was still a blur but she was certain she had behaved badly.
She kept her eyes firmly closed. "You're a figment of my imagination; you're not really here," the mantra did nothing to stave the unrhythmic thud of her heart as it forced the lump even further up her throat with its every beat.
"I'm very much here Tenten," the voice confirmed wryly.
He really ought to stop saying her name in that husky timbre of his, she brooded to herself. It washed over her in violent, provocative little waves that could―would eventually come to drown her qualms about sleeping with him.
Her lids rose abruptly even as she turned her head sharply in the direction of his voice, determinedly ignoring the painful hammering inside her head. Her eyes widened accusingly as her gaze alighted on Itachi where he sat on a chair beside her bed. He was bare-chested, with only his pajama trousers on. It made him look, she realized, with yet a jangle to her stretched nerves, disturbingly different from his usual power-suited self.
It took her completely by surprise, shocking her into being unable to do anything but simply stare. And just as she remembered from their encounter in the shower, his shoulders were wide and muscled, his stomach equally taut. Disgustingly beautiful. With a hard, masculine beauty that she could never, ever have imagined.
"What the fuck are you doing in here?" she demanded furiously. More to the point, had she suffered any nightmares in his presence? Those dark, relentless dreams where she relived the horror of her ordeal often led to shrilling outbursts at nights.
Though as of late, a different kind of monster lurked in her subconsciousness. The kind that kept her up in the middle of the last few nights, bathed in cold sweat, whimpering and aching for something she knew would further destroy her.
The cold, probing cruel eyes, the slight sneer on his pale mouth, the beautiful remorseless voice were all bitterly ingrained in her mind. She had dreamt about it. For a moment, finding him inside her room, she had felt she was falling back into those hellishly sensual nightmares, and perspiration had broken out along her spine.
That monster's brow arched over scolding black eyes. His black hair fell enticing over his shoulders now that it was unconfined, just as Tenten had imagined it would.
Something moved in his eyes. Then he spoke, "I don't appreciate being spoken to like that." He went on, in a completely different tone of voice, "You look far too innocent to have such a foul vocabulary."
"I look too innocent to swear but not too innocent for you to have your way with me?" she retorted, having to fight the rather pathetic urge to blush because he had said something nice to her. Or at least from her interpretation of it.
"I didn't sign those papers. You did," he reminded her tersely. "So quit acting like a sacrificial virgin." The words drawled from him.
"Isn't that what I am?" She stared at him, her eyes wide in puzzled enquiry.
"I didn't say I never intended to sleep with you," he said coolly. "It's just that I'll do it in my own good time. There's no rush."
She looked at him through her lashes, ludicrously irritated by his composure. Although she was terrified of the moment when he would demand that she honour their contract, she was piqued that he should be so casual about it.
"And the question should be—what are you doing in my room?" Itachi asked curtly.
Tenten's frown deepened before shifting her gaze about the room. What she saw was a room vaguely reminiscent of her own. The bedchamber, for instance, looked more like a luxurious, streamlined boutique hotel styled open space—with a sleeping area at one end that contained a bed, and a living space at the other furnished with sofas, tables and a desk. A glass wall ran the full length but it looked inward onto what Tenten imagined must be an enclosed garden.
None of her clothes were draped over the chair by the dressing table, as she had left them before she went down to dinner. Her hairbrush set, perfumes and cosmetics were missing from it as well, in their stead were file folders neatly stacked one side for ease of access and shaving things.
For one split second she was in a state of mindless panic, her eyes widening, her body gripped by terror. If she slept in Itachi's room—she must've—they must've—she gasped, trying to assess whether anything about her body felt out of place. Much to her relief, there was only the throbbing in her head. If she was aching elsewhere then it had more to do with lack of contact rather than anything else.
Tenten sharpened and steadied her voice when her gaze returned to Itachi's face. "What the fu—what am I doing in your room?" she corrected herself just in time.
Those infuriating lips twisted into a rueful grimace, "Don't you know?"
His voice taunted her lightly and she stared back at him, feeling she would like to slap the knowing look from his face. Something in his look made her flush hotly and lifted the blankets to confirm the message he seemed to be subliminally conveying.
Her slender body shuddered with shock—she was wearing only her panties and bra beneath the sheet.
Slowly she let it drop back over her nudity, her mouth a thin, disapproving line, a nerve pulsing in her jaw as she glared up at Itachi. "Where are my clothes?" Softly, her tone testing out his reaction, she asked, "Did you touch me?"
She was astonished by the look of fury which appeared on his face. The lines of his jaw tightened. The charcoal eyes were like bits of black ice as he stared down at her. He closed his eyes only briefly before grating, "Had I touched you, I guarantee you would've remembered."
"You are one sick son-of-a—"
"—what do you take me for?" he broke off impatiently as he frowned at her. "Do you honestly think I would've taken you to bed in the condition that you were in last night?"
She glanced down, her lashes fluttering against the pale gold of her skin. "I wouldn't put it past you."
"Hypothetically speaking—something happened. What would you have done, report me?" he asked mockingly. "I hardly see how helping you to do your job is an offence, Miss Momochi."
She gaped, her own face flushed with anger. "I'm not some fucking sex slave!" she exclaimed furiously.
He straightened himself, his eyes on her mouth. Dark red washed up his face. "Of course not. Slaves don't get paid." Then he clamped his jaws down in annoyance, until his cheeks were drained of all the colour that rose to it, "What did I just say about swearing?"
Tenten was very still, looking up at his dark features through the fine curtain of her lashes. Folding her hands in her lap, she said defiantly, "I'll stop swearing when you start showing me some respect. If I am to bear your abominable seed I at least require that much."
He chuckled at her choice of words. "I can't recall ever being disrespectful to you. Blunt, yes. But never disrespectful."
She elevated an accusingly brow and turned up her nose. "Your lack of regard for my privacy is a blatant show of disrespect. First, in the shower, now this," she rose her hand in a helpless gesture. "I'm beginning to think you get a kick out of trifling with me Mr. Uchiha."
He waved her off dismissively and shoved his hands in his pockets, then rose to his feet. He stood there, staring at her insolently. "I just can't understand you," he confided frustratedly.
Tenten chewed on her lower lip, unsure of what to do or say next. She quivered, trying to read the look in the narrowed black eyes. "What?" she asked in genuine puzzlement.
"You do not remember coming to my room last night? Did not remember undressing?" The words were incredulous.
She shook her head, her throat burning. Undressing—undressing for him? She almost choked on her saliva.
He looked her up and down, his mouth twisting derisively. "Did not remember that, once you had helped yourself into my bed, you snuggled against my back and clung to me?" he paused for a moment, as if mentally reliving her intrusion. And judging from the scowl on his face, he hadn't taken too kindly to it either. "Do you not remember begging me not to leave you alone and then being consumed by the most horrendous nightmares, during which you'd sworn, screamed, fought and railed like a woman possessed?"
Tenten's earlier fear returned, and she looked at him doubtfully. She had gone deathly pale. "I did no such thing," she scoffed. "Obviously you took me to your room, stripped me of my clothing and sat there waiting to watch me wake up in panic." She felt her body go stiff in apprehension. "You know that being alone with you like this would alarm the hell out of me—you're punishing me."
Itachi chuckled lightly but his voice sharpened insultingly. "There are far better ways to punish you. I can think of a couple of them right off the top of my head."
"I can just bet," she said in a low tone.
It was obvious from her initial comments that Tenten had believed herself to be in the privacy of her own room earlier, when she had moved so stealthily about the room, discarding her clothes before dropping them unorthodoxly on the floor.
He had time to ponder, as he sat helplessly in the chair beside the bed and witnessed Tenten's nightmares, whether or not she had meant to come to his room, and if so for what purpose. Although the fact that she was naked would seem all too ready to indicate that purpose to outside eyes.
But her surprise on awakening, at finding herself in his room rather than her own, and her anger and impatience with that fact, made a complete nonsense of his initial conclusion.
Disappointingly so? Perhaps, Itachi allowed self-derisively. Even if he would have fended off her drunken advances, it would still have been entertaining—flattering, even—to be the object of the intimate interest of a woman who had so adamantly tried to convince him that she wasn't in the least bit attracted to him. But her mistaking his room for her own had obviously been genuine.
Itachi concluded too, that it hadn't been her intention to have let him witness her disturbed dreams. They were a weakness of hers—a weakness she didn't wish to reveal to anyone. Having seen it, he felt perplexed himself, especially with the memory of how fiercely she had protested when he ushered her out of his bed last night.
He had woken up to the feel of something warm pressing into his back—that, and muffled sobbing. It brought the Uchiha awake with a start that had him sitting up, before he had even opened his eyes.
He had said her name and for once, sounded like the disconcerted one. Then, more gently he asked what she was doing in his room. Itachi realized then, that it made little sense to enquire why she had abandoned her bed to seek refuge in his own, clearly Tenten had been in another world—hell of her own.
Her eyes had been wild and wet. She was pale and shivering. Her heart hammered so hard he swore he could've heard it drumming in his ear drums. It had taken a considerable amount of effort to peel her hands away from the iron hold it had around his waist, as well. The fragility of her appearance certainly hadn't indicated such brute strength.
Somewhere inside his head there was a strange buzzing sound, and Tenten's voice, low and oddly constricted, had been begging him not to leave her alone—said the bad man was coming to get her. He figured the alcohol must've still been messing around with her head but the child-like voice in which she'd asked him to stay would haunt him forever.
"Don't leave me!" she cried out in such heart-rending agony that he seemed to catch it in his chest like a blow. "Please don't go!"
Escape. He had to escape—to fight the memories before they all came crashing down on him. He had begged his mother and father not the leave him too.
"Let me go!" he demanded in pained bemusement. This was the second time her antics had forced him down memory lane. He was white with terrible recollection, his onyx eyes fierce and savage against his skin. "Go to your room!"
He had to force a pillow between them in order to free himself of her clutches. Tenten hugged it to her chest—asked it to protect her. And then as if everything inside had gone haywire, her mouth opened wide and she let loose an ear-piercing scream.
Then suddenly there it was, the big black hole he had spent so many years carefully skirting around. Only this time it claimed him. He tumbled headlong into it, falling for what seemed like forever, until eventually there was nothing—nothing but a strange feeling of utter weightlessness and the blackness, that terrible, all-enveloping, mind numbing blackness.
The climb back to reality was an arduous one. His fingers scrambled to catch hold of something, anything, to stop him falling.
Her voice came as a blessing—leaning over the rim of the hole, reaching down for him.
"Please don't hit me!" Tenten whimpered fretfully. "I'm sorry!"
It was such a relief—such a wonderful relief to snap out of it, that he gathered her in his arms. "It's okay Tenten, calm down. It's Itachi—" he choked out and felt his equilibrium beginning to fall back into place. He needed it to do so in order to get her through her own nightmare. "—I'd never hurt you."
But she kicked and clawed at him, yelled at him to stop—to not touch her.
"Don't touch me!" she bit out, angrily knocking the hand away. "Leave me alone!"
He said nothing, his face white and drawn—baffled by her sudden change in reaction. He decided however, that he'd not leave—as she had begged him not to—but he wouldn't touch her either.
"It was almost as if you'd been running from something," Itachi told her grimly. It certainly had seemed that way to him from the way the door was left wide opened, like she had bolted inside.
Tenten was so dumbfounded she could only stare at him. "How long have I been here?"
Her query betrayed what her eyes had failed to reveal and Itachi felt a renewed surge of pity, a sense of compassion which was immediately replaced by confusion over the emotions that seemed to hit him as he stared at her now.
He wasn't sure what it was—it might merely be pity, but it left him with only the desire to comfort her—to reassure her fervently that she was safe and he wouldn't let anyone hurt her.
"All night."
She made the mistake of attempting to sit up. A mistake that brought on an agonizing pain which ensued her to place her hands on either side of her head in the hope of holding it in place should it attempt to topple from her neck.
What exactly were Itachi and his colleagues putting in the new line of wines?
She found the cause of the pain when her fingers encountered a large bump on the side of her head, just behind her ear. A lump that was tender and sore to the touch, as if—
She looked across at Itachi accusingly and swallowed, her throat moving convulsively, her eyes suddenly enormous brown pools of contrition in the pallor of her face. "What happened? Did I attack you?" she asked with a self-conscious grimace.
Itachi winced. "Does that often happen?"
Her small pink tongue moved nervously across the fullness of her lips, moistening them. Enticingly so. "And if so, in defending yourself did you give me this bruise?" she asked thickly, expertly avoiding the question. She was well aware that she fought in her sleep which was why she made certain nothing of importance was kept on her bed.
Angry colour darkened his cheeks. His expression was fierce. The savage question had degraded and insulted him in one sitting. "I would never lay a hand on you!"
"Then what happened?" She flinched as her fingers gently probed the tenderness of her scalp.
Itachi's lips thinned as he repressed a smirk. "You bumped your head on the bed post."
She looked at him with dislike and cold exhaustion. "Why does that amuse you?"
A cruel, sardonic smile twisted his mouth. "Karma."
A brief but thick silence throbbed.
"I suppose you think I came here with the intention of being bedded," Tenten said dryly, turning up her nose in repulsion, colour brightening her cheeks.
"I've entertained the thought," he admitted savagely.
She sat still, looking back at him helplessly, blindly releasing the sheet. It fell like liquid white from her chest to rest in a rumpled heap at her waist.
Itachi's senses were fully awake now.
All of them.
They had lain dormant straight throughout the night while he watched over her and later struggled adjust himself into a comfortable position enough to sleep in the chair. He knew from his own experience that whilst coming out of a nightmare, it was far more comforting to wake up in the presence of someone else than complete darkness. That was why he hadn't slept in one of the guestrooms last night.
Without panic and concern clouding his senses now—alone with her in his bedroom, he found Tenten's allure overpowering; her brow was like alabaster, her hazel eyes mistily enigmatic, her lips full and poutingly tempting. The lace of her bra flowed revealingly over pert breasts.
Desire stirred inappropriately in recognition of all those womanly charms, and Itachi's breath arrested in his throat as his thighs hardened even more inappropriately.
Tenten tensed warily as she sensed the sudden change in the quality of the silence that had fallen between them. There was almost an air of expectation—of awareness, Itachi's eyes darkened to as he looked at her through narrowed lids.
"I think it's time you returned to your own room, Tenten."
Her alarmed, fluttering glance saw that the black eyes were no longer unreadable. She recognized only too clearly the emotions which blazed in them and her body began to tremble in petrified response.
"After you hand me my clothes," she said shyly, pointing to where her dress was lying by the door.
"What's the magic word?" he grinned, instantly dispelling the impression of arrogant cynicism she had sensed as being such a part of him when they were first introduced. In fact he looked almost boyishly appealing now and the dark hair that fell softly over his brow added to that illusion.
But it was an illusion. Itachi was far from being a boy. He was a man hell-bent on the pursuit of pleasure that did not engage his emotions. Just a need to procreate.
The warm intimacy of that dark gaze as it swept over her so slowly, gave the impression that she had now become the focus of that pleasure.
She covered herself hastily.
The warmth in her cheeks spread to the rest of her traitorous body. Her stricken gaze returned to his face, the colour deepening in her cheeks as he raised mocking brows above eyes that openly laughed at her display of startled modesty.
Her mouth tightened. "Go to hell."
He shrugged, then smiled a wry kind of smile that thoroughly mocked whatever it was he had been going to say before he'd even bothered saying it. "Then fetch them yourself."
"I'm not decent."
His smirk was wolfish. "Go ahead; it's nothing I haven't seen."
Her eyes flashed in warning. With a decisive growl she gathered the sheet around her body, got to her feet and was about to march across the room when Itachi stopped her.
"Leave the sheets on the bed," he commanded gutturally.
Her lips parted and she shook her head. "You can't be serious."
"Give it to me, Tenten." He held out his hand to her invitingly. A gesture she recoiled from as if his hand had all the appeal of an electric eel about to strike. "Or perhaps you'd prefer if I removed it myself?" His challenge—and her nudity—were obvious.
Tenten predictably looked no more happy about that suggestion, and she scowled at him. "You've just confirmed my earlier suspicion about your penchant for trying to shock me, Mr. Uchiha."
"Itachi," he drawled comfortably, his relaxed and lazy posture totally deceptive.
Her heart flew to her throat when he closed the distance between them. She gripped the sheet closer around her, unable to move—paralyzed on the spot by the bolt of electricity that shot down her spine.
"It's entertaining," His voice was very deep and his hands were firm around her waist as she stood in front of him, her face lifted up to his, and then, as their eyes caught and held, the moment lengthened. Her heart began to thud as he bent his head, but not to capture her lips as he'd told her not to expect.
No, the brief touch of his mouth on her forehead was the sort of chaste kiss one bestowed on budding teenagers, she thought unpleasantly as he released her immediately. Itachi registered without comment, the violent shock which hit her body when his arms touched her.
Tenten stared aghast at him and gave a low moan of horror, wrapping the white coverlet even tighter around her body. "Itachi?" she whispered, shivering uncontrollably.
His veiled glance played idly over her shocked face. Then he lifted his head, half frowning before suddenly smiling at her. "But understand that I'm not trying to force you into impossible situation for entertainment value. You need to get comfortable around me," he told her and for a second or two she had no sense of the direction their conversation had taken. "You're going to have to get used to seeing me in your bedroom—being in my bedroom," he said in a conversational tone. "I'm going to be around all the time. You needn't jump like a frightened rabbit every time I come near you. I've no intention of hurting you or forcing your surrender."
She was shaking so hard her teeth began to chatter. She tried to breathe but found that she couldn't. Her lungs seemed to have seized up while her heart was thundering against a steel casing of shock that had wrapped itself tightly around her chest.
He silently gathered her belongings and handed them to her. Her throat was too tight to say thank you. It hovered on the tip of her tongue again but managed to stay there while she simply stared at him, feeling helpless and hopelessly inadequate to deal with the fractured emotions clamoring her.
Itachi had just kissed her on her forehead.
Like her brother normally would—to comfort her.
She heard his breath catch and saw the coldness fade out of his hard face. His hands caught her by the waist, drawing her towards him again. "I'm not going to ask you about last night, we all have our demons," he stated simply. "When you are ready to—if you feel a need to talk to me—I'm here."
She blinked.
The smothering silence broke in upon her and she raised her lids to look at him. He was watching her, his face tortured.
Her heart drop like a stone to the clawing base of her stomach. "What is it?" she asked, thinking she might have said something she really shouldn't have in her sleep.
"Don't expect this sort playful banter every morning," his hands dropped and he stood back, shaking his head. "I'm not a morning person, be warned," he said harshly then added in an attempt to speak lightly. "I was only trying to get your mind off what happened last night."
"Playful banter?" Her mouth snapped shut, then on a shaky little sigh it opened again. "Well it wasn't very effective. You've never concerned yourself with my feelings before so now I'm even more curious."
"Well that's your problem," he very drily replied. Then in one of those quick-fire changes of mood he could undergo which tended to make her flounder, he walked to the door and opened it—an indication that she had worn out her welcome. "I'd prefer to not be reminded of it. Leave."
She gave an unguarded gasp of disbelief. "You're impossible."
"And you're stubborn," he retorted. "But unlike last night, you'll jump to obey me when I tell you to get out."
"Is that so?" she flung at him defiantly, her nerves skittering as he produced a wicked smirk and reached for the strings on his trouser. "I'm not leaving until you tell me what happened."
His body tensed. His smile grew savage. "Then watch me undress. I'm going to have a shower." The black eyes slid down her body, stripping her insolently.
Tenten was out in five seconds flat—still wrapped up in his sheets and carrying her clothes in her hands. She stumbled upon Konan on her way out the door. She appeared to be more surprised by Tenten's presence than the brunette was of hers, despite how early it was.
Her eyes cruelly observed Tenten, her face like stone. "I know you're a fraud child. I've got the necessary documents to prove it right here," she held up a plastic folder with the nanny agency's logo and smiled drily at her. "I'd suggest you started packing," she pushed past a stupefied Tenten to enter the room.
"Tell Itachi I said last night was amazing," she parried in a soft-toned taunt that stopped Konan in her tracks and stiffened her spine.
But as soon as she took off, the initiative, the old fear came flooding her stomach. Then the whole things flipped over like a spinning coin that falls to the ground to land the wrong way up. Suddenly the panic was back, sizzling along her veins and making Tenten realize that provoking an already suspicious Konan had been unwise.
A/N: Reviews are always appreciated.
