All the stereotypes; Blondes are stupid, black haired girls are bithcy, red head's are butchy, and brunettes are homely.
But what was the stereotype for pink haired women?
Who knew?
Who cared?
She was with him, had chosen him despite what he was. Despite what she'd seen him do countless times on the battlefield and despite what he'd done to her.
Sometimes he'd be mean to her. He'd be cruel and heartless and cynical until she cried. He only did it so that he could hold her against his chest, so that he could lick and kiss the salty buds of water away and feel her cling to him needily.
Sometimes he'd scare her. Not jump out and yell 'boo' type of scare but stalk up silently behind her and clamp his hand on her shoulder so that she startled slightly or do things she dubbed 'creepy' simply so she would cling to him… as if he could make all the fear and all the pain go away.
He liked it when she came to him for comfort. He liked it when she cried silently and kissed him or when she muffled her sobs against his shoulder.
He especially liked it when he came back after a few days; never telling her where he went or what he did, and she would greet him with physical contact and soft words as she caressed him as if to make sure she was real.
But he most definitely liked it when he lay in bed with his back propped up against the wall after their sex and she would have her arms wrapped around him and her head resting in the curve of his shoulder as she slept. She cooed in her sleep and mumbled things. Soft things. Things that made him content.
"Gaara…" She said as she exhaled. "don't leave me…" She often had nightmares about her two team mates. The one who had gone off searching power and the second who had gone off seeking the other one even though it had been years since he was last seen. "…I don't want to be alone…" He closed his eyes and tilted his head down slightly so that his nose was buried in fragrant pink hair. "…I love you…" The words were a mere whisper out of her lips.
Sometimes… mostly at times like this… he would feel the tiniest pangs of remorse and guilt for being so cruel to her and for leaving several days on end without saying anything to her. But these flashes of alien emotion were very short and easily ignored.
This was something very new to him after all… these emotions, those words, the way she looked at him and caressed him and always wanted to touch him in some way. Sometimes he just wanted to squeeze her neck until those pretty green eyes spattered against the wall, other times he would float faint touches and kisses over her skin as if in fear that handling her roughly would break her.
But at times like this… her head on his chest, her arms wrapped loosely around him, her scent so close her touch so nice and warm… he really wanted to tell her.
She was so afraid of him leaving her that she failed to see so blatantly, so obviously, that he was scared.
Scared of her leaving him.
Scared that it would be someone else she spoke of in her sleep.
Scared that she wouldn't want to touch him or look at him anymore.
"…don't leave me Gaara…" The woman begged in her sleep, her arms tightening around him slightly.
What he really wanted to tell her, what he really wanted to say was 'don't leave me Sakura' but that was a rather impossible thing for him to say… so he contented himself with burrowing his nose deeper into her hair and holding her tightly, possessively, against his body.