moscas en la casa
Sometimes he would look at him with something else than hate in his eyes. There would be something gentle, something like hurt inside those blue, blue pools of his. And he would watch his back, wide shirt over a small and fragile frame, muscles tensing and loosening every time he moved. And he wouldn't notice it, he never did. He had all the peace and time in the world to look the other boy over, to get lost in his features, imagining how he would draw his fingers through that silky, black hair. He didn't know where those feelings came from, showing up now and then, catching him by surprise and making him freeze in his motions. He could not explain it to himself. He tried to compare it with what he felt for Sakura-chan. How his stomach would flip around in excitement whenever he saw her. Or how she made him grin and act even more stupid than normal, earning only frowns and insults from her side. But it never bothered him. Around Sakura-chan, he felt light and air-headed. But around him ... When he thought about Sasuke, anger and frustration would build up, but then, when he went a little deeper into his mind, he saw that what actually made him so angry about the boy was that he could tell that he suffered. And he couldn't approach him enough to maybe try and help him somehow. Sasuke kept everything to himself, his face blank and hard. And that was what frustrated him so very much. He knew that the other had it nearly as hard as he had had it and still had partly. And so he sometimes wished he could just wrap his arms around Sasuke and hug him. Just like that. Because that's what he had longed for when he had been on the edge of giving up. But he knew it was impossible. And that made him even angrier. And sad at the same time. Really sad. Because somehow he wanted to be friends with the boy, wanted to show him that he understood. He wanted to get along with him, even if they were rivalling all the time, probably would always be. He couldn't tell if what he felt now for Sasuke was even a little beyond friendship. He was confused. But he still would watch him, every time that particular feeling overwhelmed him. It was so strange. So very strange. He would sit hours on the roof of his little apartment after their training, observing how the sunlight slowly faded, thinking about him. So many hours, without ever noticing the figure, standing right under his window, deep dark eyes watching him for a change.
Sometimes he would look at him with something else than hate in his eyes. There would be something gentle, something like hurt inside those blue, blue pools of his. And he would watch his back, wide shirt over a small and fragile frame, muscles tensing and loosening every time he moved. And he wouldn't notice it, he never did. He had all the peace and time in the world to look the other boy over, to get lost in his features, imagining how he would draw his fingers through that silky, black hair. He didn't know where those feelings came from, showing up now and then, catching him by surprise and making him freeze in his motions. He could not explain it to himself. He tried to compare it with what he felt for Sakura-chan. How his stomach would flip around in excitement whenever he saw her. Or how she made him grin and act even more stupid than normal, earning only frowns and insults from her side. But it never bothered him. Around Sakura-chan, he felt light and air-headed. But around him ... When he thought about Sasuke, anger and frustration would build up, but then, when he went a little deeper into his mind, he saw that what actually made him so angry about the boy was that he could tell that he suffered. And he couldn't approach him enough to maybe try and help him somehow. Sasuke kept everything to himself, his face blank and hard. And that was what frustrated him so very much. He knew that the other had it nearly as hard as he had had it and still had partly. And so he sometimes wished he could just wrap his arms around Sasuke and hug him. Just like that. Because that's what he had longed for when he had been on the edge of giving up. But he knew it was impossible. And that made him even angrier. And sad at the same time. Really sad. Because somehow he wanted to be friends with the boy, wanted to show him that he understood. He wanted to get along with him, even if they were rivalling all the time, probably would always be. He couldn't tell if what he felt now for Sasuke was even a little beyond friendship. He was confused. But he still would watch him, every time that particular feeling overwhelmed him. It was so strange. So very strange. He would sit hours on the roof of his little apartment after their training, observing how the sunlight slowly faded, thinking about him. So many hours, without ever noticing the figure, standing right under his window, deep dark eyes watching him for a change.