Taking Over Me
Disclaimer: If you haven't realized it yet, I own nothing you recognize
Archive: Anyone who wants it
Pairing: Guess ^^
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The wind moved the curtains gently, mimicking the ripples of touched waters. Disturbing the calm of the cloth covering my body. Brushing my hair against my neck and forehead, which used to bother me but nothing does, not anymore. The room moved about me as I remained still, contradicting my nature.
Heavy, heady scents of mixed floral coiled in the air like a large lazy bird. The suns' farewell rays of fiery colors played along the room along with shadows. Painting the room bloody and peaceful.
I didn't hear him enter for I never could and certainly not now but I always knew when he drew near. For he was my teacher and much more and I knew that even in my stillness.
Many others entered here to visit, though I can't understand why. Many yell, berate, even shake me but most are overwhelmed by the unnatural calm of my body and they'd cry and beg, holding me, my hands my head my body. Sometimes they'd swing from the two extremes. If I could talk I'd tell them it was fine with me. Some just hover in silence and drift away, disappointed. By what I can't tell. All I know is him and that is hard to hold onto.
"Naruto.."
His hands ghosted over mine, he trembled and pulled them away sharply. Maybe he was afraid the stillness would infect him too. I wouldn't do it on purpose but I was never the best, not at anything. Though I used to wish it wasn't so. But it passed, as did most things with my tranquility.
"Naruto, I.."
He curled his hand over his mouth and nose as his voice failed him. Salty wetness hit my face in a stream of crystalline droplets and his looming figure became distant as he turned away. Ashamed of his tears, he tried to hide what I couldn't feel. The shaking of his back and shoulders gave away what he didn't want my prone body to see.
He stayed for a while, trembling and burning like a newly born butterfly. He did not look at me again and he dared not to touch me. For then it would become real. Right now he could pretend. Pretend I was what I once was.
That my breath stilled flowed in a gentle hum from my lungs. My heart might still pump crimson through my body. That the cold would leave me; and he wouldn't be here.
He grew resentful and grieved. But I wondered why I struck him so when he, a shinobi, relied on indifference. Another reason for my failures. Still, how did this derailed him like nothing else? I'd like to pretty it up but the truth lay thick as chill spilling in my bones.
He remembered my unspoken fear of still and quiet and became angry, at me, at himself.
For I loved him. I loved him and he pitied me.
I was ready to be still, but no one else was.
Since nothing was more remembered cherished then his warmth.
Even if it had meant my cold.
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*Whistles innocently* Well what do you think? I thought it up while I went swimming at the beach today (and was burnt crisplily by the sun since I forgot to put on sunblock, oopsies. Well my sister will be suffering more since she is fairer skinned *cackles*) I know Naruto seems kinda ooc but I was aiming for indifference and remembered feelings since he is, well if you understood my story thing, dead. I couldn't decide if I was going for a Iruka/Naruto, a Kakashi/Naruto or a Jiraiya/Naruto. So I left it open ended This was inspired by the poem After Death by Christina Rossitti or however you spell her last name. If you haven't read it, do so. I love it to pieces. If you were emotionally damaged or whatever by this, please note that my fingers are possessed and I'm not responsible for their handiwork *shifty eyed* So if you love it, hate it just drop me a line. I'd be glad to hear what you say.
Disclaimer: If you haven't realized it yet, I own nothing you recognize
Archive: Anyone who wants it
Pairing: Guess ^^
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
The wind moved the curtains gently, mimicking the ripples of touched waters. Disturbing the calm of the cloth covering my body. Brushing my hair against my neck and forehead, which used to bother me but nothing does, not anymore. The room moved about me as I remained still, contradicting my nature.
Heavy, heady scents of mixed floral coiled in the air like a large lazy bird. The suns' farewell rays of fiery colors played along the room along with shadows. Painting the room bloody and peaceful.
I didn't hear him enter for I never could and certainly not now but I always knew when he drew near. For he was my teacher and much more and I knew that even in my stillness.
Many others entered here to visit, though I can't understand why. Many yell, berate, even shake me but most are overwhelmed by the unnatural calm of my body and they'd cry and beg, holding me, my hands my head my body. Sometimes they'd swing from the two extremes. If I could talk I'd tell them it was fine with me. Some just hover in silence and drift away, disappointed. By what I can't tell. All I know is him and that is hard to hold onto.
"Naruto.."
His hands ghosted over mine, he trembled and pulled them away sharply. Maybe he was afraid the stillness would infect him too. I wouldn't do it on purpose but I was never the best, not at anything. Though I used to wish it wasn't so. But it passed, as did most things with my tranquility.
"Naruto, I.."
He curled his hand over his mouth and nose as his voice failed him. Salty wetness hit my face in a stream of crystalline droplets and his looming figure became distant as he turned away. Ashamed of his tears, he tried to hide what I couldn't feel. The shaking of his back and shoulders gave away what he didn't want my prone body to see.
He stayed for a while, trembling and burning like a newly born butterfly. He did not look at me again and he dared not to touch me. For then it would become real. Right now he could pretend. Pretend I was what I once was.
That my breath stilled flowed in a gentle hum from my lungs. My heart might still pump crimson through my body. That the cold would leave me; and he wouldn't be here.
He grew resentful and grieved. But I wondered why I struck him so when he, a shinobi, relied on indifference. Another reason for my failures. Still, how did this derailed him like nothing else? I'd like to pretty it up but the truth lay thick as chill spilling in my bones.
He remembered my unspoken fear of still and quiet and became angry, at me, at himself.
For I loved him. I loved him and he pitied me.
I was ready to be still, but no one else was.
Since nothing was more remembered cherished then his warmth.
Even if it had meant my cold.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
*Whistles innocently* Well what do you think? I thought it up while I went swimming at the beach today (and was burnt crisplily by the sun since I forgot to put on sunblock, oopsies. Well my sister will be suffering more since she is fairer skinned *cackles*) I know Naruto seems kinda ooc but I was aiming for indifference and remembered feelings since he is, well if you understood my story thing, dead. I couldn't decide if I was going for a Iruka/Naruto, a Kakashi/Naruto or a Jiraiya/Naruto. So I left it open ended This was inspired by the poem After Death by Christina Rossitti or however you spell her last name. If you haven't read it, do so. I love it to pieces. If you were emotionally damaged or whatever by this, please note that my fingers are possessed and I'm not responsible for their handiwork *shifty eyed* So if you love it, hate it just drop me a line. I'd be glad to hear what you say.
