I was feeling particularly creative yesterday and wrote two little fics; one when I woke up in the morning and one right before I went to sleep. Hmm... that's more than I did in the last month.
This was originally meant to be a drabble. As you can see, however, it grew to such extent that it should not be considered one anymore.
Similar
"Actions speak louder than words," they say. That has been your motto, since you have never been particularly gifted with words. And being an Uchiha meant you must always live by your mottos. Like many ninjas before you, you let your instincts (your eyes) guide you—because nothing else will.
There is nothing that can be said about what you feel anyway, because you feel too much to be said.
And there is nothing that can be said to make him understand anyway, for he (like yourself, though you would never admit that) speaks the language of fighters, people who deal with their problems with fists, not mouths. A stolen glance here, a pat on the back there, it almost seems as if he is trying to tell you something.
So you pretend, like the coward you know you are, pretend that you don't notice his bright smiles (only for you), his genuine chuckles (only around you), and his lingering touch on your shoulder (only you), fearful (yes, Uchiha, you fear) of reading too much into his actions and afraid (that leaves your tongue with a bitter aftertaste) that he would, like them, see no deeper than this mask of yours.
Honestly, give him a little more credit, would you?
"Don't hug me, Dobe."
You see something in his eyes whenever you send him a particularly biting comment for no apparent reason (you know you don't mean a word of it, but you have to make it sound like you do). He would open his mouth (just like what he's doing now) before deciding against whatever he wants to say and snapping his jaws (they are strong jaws) shut. It is almost as if he worries over what you think.
Heh. If you don't know any better, you would say the two of you are similar. Imagine that.
