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Most people wake up thinking 'I'm hungry.'
Others wake up thinking 'Dammit, why'd I wake up?"
Hardly anyone wakes up thinking 'FUCK!'
Of course, not everyone awoke to find themselves snuggled up to an ex-psycho.
Sakura Haruno, however, was one of those people unfortunate (or fortunate, she hadn't really decided yet) enough to wake up and find themselves in just that position.
And it seemed that she was indeed in an even more awkward position than she had (collapsed) fallen asleep in.
Gaara had barely shifted at all. He was still propped up against the wall in what had to be a very uncomfortable sitting position. His legs were sprawled out into a V shape in front of him, which also had to be incredibly uncomfortable. His head was tilted back and resting against the wall, soft breaths puffing from his open mouth.
She, always the lucky one, had in fact moved.
She was lying on her side, in between his spread legs. Her arms had somehow wrapped themselves around his abnormally slim waist, and she was currently snuggling her face into his abdomen. She lay there, too utterly mortified to move.
Yes, her life just kept getting better and better.
They probably looked adorable.
Disgustingly adorable.
Could this perhaps become any more embarrassingly cliche?
One of his arms moved, pulling her more snugly against him. She froze. His breathing didn't change. The arm remained possessively thrown across her back.
Oh God. Of course it could.
Now there was no way she could escape without waking him.
Why? She mentally wailed. What have I done to piss the universe off? I haven't sworn revenge against my brother or gone on a mad slaughtering rampage. Why me? Whhhyyyyy?
...you know you like it.
Sakura chose to ignore that suggestive comment from her inner self and instead took assessment of her current situation.
Hmm. Gaara was asleep. If she moved she'd most likely wake him up. Her neck hurt like hell.
She suddenly had the strong urge to forcefully slam her head into the wall.
But that would have woken him up.
She shut her eyes tightly, gritting her teeth. Why the hell did she have to fall asleep on him!
Why the hell didn't he move her!
Too many why's...just jump him while he's groggy and get over it.
Shut up!
Sakura lay there, completely helpless.
Because really, what was someone supposed to do in a situation like this?
She gave a despaired stare to the wall behind Gaara's back. Maybe she could go back to sleep. That way, at least, when Gaara woke up she wouldn't be awake to witness his reaction. Maybe he would silently slide out from under, and she'd wake up alone. Then they could go about pretending it didn't happen.
Yeah. Let's go with that.
Ten minutes later, her absolutely genius plan was interrupted when Gaara stirred, brow furrowing as he let out a quiet noise of unease. Her eyes snapped open.
Well, there was always the chance that if she remained utterly and completely still, he'd stop moving and go back to sleep.
That plan, however, was also obliterated when his left leg drew back and then lashed out, hitting her right below her neck so hard her grip on him was ripped away, and she was sent flying several feet backwards, knocking the wind out of her. She landed in a disarrayed slump, mouth agape with shock.
H–he'd kicked her!
He couldn't be that angry, could he?
She quickly crawled a safe distance away, lest he decide that yes, he was that angry.
But he didn't move. Clutching a hand to her erratically beating heart, she stared at him disbelievingly. A finger twitched, and then he was still. She cautiously crept forward, crouching down next to him. His face had relaxed, and the only change in his posture was his head, which was now tilted downwards, chin resting on his chest.
He was still asleep.
What. The. Hell.
She reached out a hand to tap his shoulder (Or punch him in the face. The asshole had kicked her, after all.), but before her finger came within one foot of him, his eyes suddenly snapped open, as did his mouth.
Then he screamed Bloody Mary.
She herself screamed too as she violently jerked backwards, banging into his bedframe.
WHAT THE FUCK!
But he didn't stop there. As soon as the first scream died out, he let out a second, then another. They came in volleys.
As she stared at him, eyes wide, she realized something.
He was having a nightmare.
"G–gaara," she tried shakily, too afraid to move any closer to him. "Wake up."
His hands violently tore at his hair and face, and Sakura realized with alarm that he was drawing blood. She rushed towards him, attempting to grab his flailing arms. Her sharingan, after laying dormant for so long, surfaced, flashing and spinning.
As she tried to restrain him, it never occurred to her to worry about his sand.
One of his hands swiped across her cheek, nails gouging into her skin. She caught it, wincing, then grabbed his other arm. He thrashed, but, physical strength being her forte, she restrained him, straddling him and shoving his wrists against the wall.
"Gaara stop it!" She yelled in his face.
He snarled in reply, bucking under her with such force she was almost knocked off.
"Gaara!"
She released his hands and drew back her own, slapping him sharply across the cheek.
He quieted immediately and stared at her, obviously stunned.
"Fucking...idiot," she panted, praying he had woken up.
They sat there for a few minutes, breathing heavily and staring at each other. His eyes slowly cleared as he took in the sight of her in front of him. Neither of them made any effort to move.
"What happened?" He asked finally.
"You...were dreaming," she said in between breaths as her adrenaline slowly left, leaving her feeling limp and exhausted. "You're pretty screwed up...you know? I really have to wonder...what the hell you could have been dreaming about to scream your head off like that. I've never – are you listening?"
He was staring at her collar bone. She flushed, and was about to smack him again, when his eyes left and trailed upwards, resting on her cheek.
"What?" She asked defensively.
He reached out and gently touched her cheek. Her eyes widened reflexively at this uncharacteristic gesture, and she locked gazes with him. Her brow furrowed confusedly when he didn't remove his hand.
"Gaara, what – "
"I hurt you."
She swallowed. "What are you talking about?"
His thumb pressed softly against her skin in reply, and she felt her cheek sting.
"Oh. You just scratched me," she said, uneased by his behavior. "It's no big deal."
He lowered his eyes to her collar bone again. "And that?"
She followed his gaze. A large, ugly bruise was already starting to form.
"I, um," she started nervously. "Fell."
He gave her a flat stare. She refused to meet his eyes.
"Sa. Ku. Ra," he said slowly, tone demanding.
"Um...you kicked me."
He was silent. It was starting to unnerve her.
"I hurt you too, you know." She looked pointedly at his cheek, where she could dimly see a red hand print in the almost morning light pouring through the window.
Gaara closed his eyes, taking on a pained expression. "Not the same," he muttered.
Then he suddenly reached out and captured her with his arms. She had about a second's warning before she was crushed into his chest. Her breath caught in her throat and his arms tightened around her shoulders, as if telling her he refused to let go whether she liked it or not.
"What..." she trailed off, blinking, helplessly confused.
"I'm sorry," he rasped, mouth right next to her ear. She flushed brilliantly.
"Gaara...it's okay," she said, shaken. What the hell is going on?
He didn't reply, just buried his nose into the crook of her neck.
What? What?
"...what're you doing?"
"What do you think?" He replied, sounding agitated that she wasn't responding.
Well of course she knew what she thought. But Gaara couldn't possibly be hugging her, could he? That was so blindingly out of character.
Of course, so were the phrases 'Help me,' and 'I'm sorry.'
But he'd said them.
"Gaara," she said softly, not really knowing what else to do. What was really scaring her was the fact that she hadn't sent him flying into next week yet.
She knew what he was doing. She knew it was emotional and sentimental and romantic and so wrong. She knew that he...they were embracing...but she wasn't doing anything about it.
Because she didn't want to.
She wanted him to keep holding her.
That was what scared her.
"Why?" She asked confusedly, still not moving. Why me? Why anyone? Why not someone else? She pressed her face into his shoulder, sighing. "Why?"
His arms tightened as if to pull her more flush into him, and he inhaled deeply, making her shiver. "I don't know."
Cautiously, she slid one arm behind his neck, letting it lie there. "I'm confused."
"Join the club."
She rested her chin on his shoulder, letting her eyelids drop halfway. She breathed in. He smelled good.
What was happening?
He suddenly pushed her back partly, and her brow furrowed. Had he changed his mind?
"I'm sorry," he said again, and she realized he was looking at the scratches on her cheek and her collar bone.
"It wasn't your fault." She shook her head, trying to ignore how horribly cliche that sounded.
He placed a hand on the back of her neck, pushing. She obediently leaned forward.
Then suddenly they were kissing.
Sakura, who had never been kissed, wasn't really sure what to think about it. In truth, it had always seemed kind of disgusting to her. Yes, she had fantasized about kissing Sasuke before. But only because it would mean him acknowledging he liked her back. The actual kissing didn't sound all that appealing. Slobbering all over each other and mixing germs? Ew. Not to mention how unsanitary it was.
But this was different from anything she'd expected.
For starters, she was still straddling him. For another, neither of them leaned into it, their lips just touching awkwardly. Both pairs of eyes remained open, uncertainly looking at the other.
...for fuck's sake. This is so pathetic.
Sakura mentally rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but agree. Steeling herself, she gently pushed her lips against his, moving them slowly in an open and close motion that she could only guess she was supposed to do. Gaara cautiously responded, leaning into the kiss as his hand gently fisted in her hair. Her eyes fluttered shut.
Roughly fifteen seconds later, she had decided she liked it. And, judging by the eagerness with which Gaara now kissed her, so did he.
"Whoa...you two getting it on?"
Sakura let out a muffled yelp of surprise into Gaara's mouth, before they wrenched their lips apart to stare disbelievingly at the doorway, where Kankuro stood, eyebrow raised.
One of his lips was spasmodically twitching. It was obvious he was trying not to laugh.
"Took you guys long enough," he choked out, ignoring Gaara's glare.
"What." Gaara's voice dripped with menace. "Do you want?"
Kankuro innocently shrugged, still smirking. "Well, first I heard you screaming like a maniac, so I thought you were having another nightmare. But then it suddenly got quiet, so I naturally assumed something was up." He paused. "I thought I'd come check on you, but," At this point he had started struggling not to laugh again. "Obviously, Sakura-chan's got it covered."
Sakura buried her face in her hands, mortified beyond comprehension.
"Kankuro," she moaned. "Go away."
"Ah, busy getting busy, huh?" He swayed on the balls of his feet and turned to leave. "Remember to use protection, kiddos. God knows you can't afford to get – "
He was cut off by a tendril of sand forcefully slamming the door shut. They listened to him laugh hysterically for a few seconds before returning downstairs.
"Jesus Christ," Sakura muttered.
Gaara sighed softly, black rimmed eyes staring into space, before he slid her off of him. She looked at him questioningly, but he didn't offer to say anything, just watched her quietly.
He was waiting for her to leave.
She was shocked at the sudden disappointment that flowed through her.
"...can I stay?"
Her words were meek and shy, and for a second she hated herself for it. She was supposed to be strong now, not the suck up little girl she'd been in her Sasuke days.
But she forgot all that when Gaara, looking at her oddly as if she might vanish, gave a tiny nod.
She glanced uncertainly towards the bed, and immediately dismissed it. She was not ready to literally sleep with him.
...it's the same thing, even if it's on the floor.
She ignored that and cautiously scooted back towards his side. Neither of them said anything, and, after a few minutes of silence, Sakura drowsily let her head drop onto his shoulder. Her breathing deepened and her eyes fluttered closed. She could figure everything out in the morning, when she wasn't so tired.
She was semi-aware, in her half asleep state, that at some point Gaara had cautiously wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
Hmm. Maybe she liked her life full of cliches.
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