1.
Gaara had never really believed in miracles. He'd never believed in prayer either, though most of the population in the Sand did. He stared into the closet before closing the door. It would be as good a time as any to start. He prayed. And for a miracle no less. A miracle that obviously didn't come when he reopened the door to the closet. He sighed and took out the only thing left in what used to be his room.
The material was scratchy, tight and highly uncomfortable. Honesty, he had nothing against the color, but well...it really didn't suit his skin tone. He pushed the front down a bit and stared at his reflection in the glass vase. He looked fat. A sigh followed by the brief closure of eyes. It would just have to do for now. He had nothing in his closet and though he wasn't quite sure how this had ended up there, it was a step up from his old clothes. Those had been caked in dirt, sweat, and blood (not his, mind you) from the mission he had been on for the past few months. They certainly weren't the type of thing you asked anyone out in, or visited in.
Of course, he could have waited for either of his siblings to return from the mission they had just finished but...Okay, he didn't want to wait. It would take at least another week for them to get back and he really would like to reach the Leaf before then. He flattened the hair on the top of his head and stared at his reflection again. Pink was just a...it just sucked. Pink sucked.
The dress came just above his ankles showing off his blue zori underneath. The top had two straps that wrapped themselves over his shoulders. It probably would have looked good on him if he was a girl. But he wasn't.
No use complaining about it though. He didn't have any money and he didn't like to shop anyway. Besides, it was how you wore the clothes not what they looked like. At least that was what Temari said the last time he had gotten a new shirt. He promptly slammed the door to his room in her face as retaliation to the 'compliment'.
Gaara had never really believed in miracles. He'd never believed in prayer either, though most of the population in the Sand did. He stared into the closet before closing the door. It would be as good a time as any to start. He prayed. And for a miracle no less. A miracle that obviously didn't come when he reopened the door to the closet. He sighed and took out the only thing left in what used to be his room.
The material was scratchy, tight and highly uncomfortable. Honesty, he had nothing against the color, but well...it really didn't suit his skin tone. He pushed the front down a bit and stared at his reflection in the glass vase. He looked fat. A sigh followed by the brief closure of eyes. It would just have to do for now. He had nothing in his closet and though he wasn't quite sure how this had ended up there, it was a step up from his old clothes. Those had been caked in dirt, sweat, and blood (not his, mind you) from the mission he had been on for the past few months. They certainly weren't the type of thing you asked anyone out in, or visited in.
Of course, he could have waited for either of his siblings to return from the mission they had just finished but...Okay, he didn't want to wait. It would take at least another week for them to get back and he really would like to reach the Leaf before then. He flattened the hair on the top of his head and stared at his reflection again. Pink was just a...it just sucked. Pink sucked.
The dress came just above his ankles showing off his blue zori underneath. The top had two straps that wrapped themselves over his shoulders. It probably would have looked good on him if he was a girl. But he wasn't.
No use complaining about it though. He didn't have any money and he didn't like to shop anyway. Besides, it was how you wore the clothes not what they looked like. At least that was what Temari said the last time he had gotten a new shirt. He promptly slammed the door to his room in her face as retaliation to the 'compliment'.