7.
Petals float and swirl in tandem to the rhythm of a heartbeat, in liaison with how two souls bend and cower to each other, only to meld and mould into something more; gold and diamond. They sinew together until there is nothing more grand in between the heavens and the earth, and as Sakura takes a breath within this forever land, she knows that she has found what her heart has been aching for evermore... peace. It is held within his hand and behind his smile, and she wants to cradle his face and promise him happy endings with her own body, to cleanse his mind of any wrongdoing until their hearts bend to each other just like the pink petals which have become gold.
Pink eyelashes flutter open, and as her dream state fades away, she notices the indentation which has been left in the shape of her lover- her friend, she corrects herself. She must still be in a state of purgatory; a space between the heavens of her dreams and the realities of her life if she is finding herself seeing Sasuke as anything more than she has always seen him as: a dear friend. Sakura wills herself awake, and forces herself to sit up as she studies one balcony door left open, indicating the path of absence Sasuke has taken.
"Seriously Sakura, if you're not gonna make a move on him, then I will."
"Do whatever you want, Pig."
Sakura groans as the memories of her school days scurry towards her, unbidden. As she finishes dressing herself, she finds herself contemplating about how best to sneak into Itachi's office, where it seems that many of his secrets lie. It is just as she is about to open her bedroom door, that she hears a drum against the glass of the balcony door which is still closed. When it happens again, she notices the stone that bounces off the glass causing her feet to respond to the whimsical call of the stone that patters against her window, before it can shatter it into pieces, mirroring what she may become.
Sakura pushes the balcony door open and looks down as her hair falls forward following her gaze, and there standing down below with a smirk gracing his lips is he who has burrowed into her and left a faint indentation in her heart as well as her bed.
"Sasuke?" she hisses down at him. "What do you think you're doing? You'll get caught!"
The smirk slips off his face, and in a bored tone, he simply implores, "Meet me at the gardens. The one with the fountain."
He leaves her confused and stranded on her balcony, but she is ever trusting of him, and so she does as he bids.
He stands under a tree, with its barren branches standing uproot for all the skies to see. She makes her way towards him and raises her brow at his appearance: he is all suited in black, his black blazer and waistcoat hiding his white shirt that peeks beneath his ever black tie.
"It's part of the uniform," he says, by way of explanation at her unspoken question.
"I can see that... but how did you get into the household so soon? Surely they don't just let anyone in?" Sakura questioned.
"They have suited men and women going in and out all the time. It wasn't hard to pass as just another worker," Sasuke said, his face giving away nothing but boredom as he waited for the tide of the conversation to change course.
"And so what is it that you'll be doing for Mr Uchiha? What do I even call you? Surely Itachi's workers must know that he has one surviving brother?"
"His men are not required to give their names up to you or to each other, we are nameless. As of what I do... Well, I've managed to acquire the task of overseeing the kitchens amongst other things, so I'll be sure to moderate what's going into your food. And just from this morning, that seems to be where all the gossip is too... It sounds that a certain bride-to-be seems to be rather 'difficult' and 'unrelenting'," Sasuke explained, amusement seeping over his words as he relayed how she had been described by those who had come across her in the mansion.
Sakura rolled her eyes at the accusations. "But can you blame me, one second I'm here with my betrothed, the next I'm waking up to a constellation of strange people dressed like penguins smothering me with questions," Sakura huffed. "Aside from that, anything else you've found out?"
"We have five days until your engagement. Five days until Itachi returns, from what I understood. And within those five days I'll be here with you, every step of the way so-"
"-together we'll unfurl Itachi's secrets, every last drop of them," Sakura whispered, finishing off Sasuke's sentence, just as they used to back in school which would make Naruto groan in frustration.
A corner of Sasuke's lip tilted upwards at what Sakura could only assume was the shared memory.
Sasuke nodded in confirmation. He then pulled her by the elbow closer to him and whispered in her ear, "From what I've heard, the old widow will be here after noon. Be sure to acknowledge her presence."
Sakura nodded knowingly, and felt the grip of her elbow release allowing her to step into her caged freedom and do whatever it was that princesses who are stuck in castles do.
When noon strikes, Sakura ventures out into the gardens again and finds the old widow rocking by the fountain as promised by Sasuke. This time however, she is engaged in embroidery as the older woman knits white and red together on lace. Sakura stalks up to the retired nanny and bends down as she spies the red and white to be the Uchiha crest, mirroring the colourless stone decoration on the fountain.
"That's beautiful," Sakura comments as she tucks a fallen lock of hair behind her ear.
"Ah, so it would be. You've always had a good eye though haven't you, dear? After all, it was you who suggested I embroid the family emblem onto your wedding veil. It only would do to do the same for your future daughter-in-law," the woman nods as her fingers allow the needles to weave in and out through the lace.
"You are kind to say so," Sakura comments with grace, trying her best to remember the kindness of Sasuke's mother. "I do enjoy hearing your stories. It brings back all the good memories," Sakura probes, hoping that the woman would bend to her will and spill anything valuable.
"Hmm," the woman hums to herself conspiratorially. "I'm not really sure what memories they would be as your early wedded days were plagued with arguments from the rest of your extended family that it should have been their daughters to get married to Fugaku, but so be it. Fugaku chose you, and if that's what you mean by 'good' memories, then who is an old crone like me to judge, eh?"
Sakura bit her lip at her mishap before erupting into nervous laughter in order to dismiss the woman's speculation of her 'memories'. "To be sure... It was a difficult time for the family..." Sakura chose her words carefully and slowly. "But we had each other, and that's what mattered in the end."
To Sakura's surprise, the old woman barked in laughter at her words. "Ah I see now why Fugaku chose you, dear one," the widow remarked after she had composed herself. "You always did bring out the best in everything, including your dear husband."
Sakura saw an opening, and decided that she would take it, lure out whatever she could. She lunged in with, "I wish I could still stand up to that merit. It saddens me to say this, but Itachi and his father haven't seen eye to eye for a while now. Nothing I say seems to console them," Sakura feigned sadness over her words, inciting sincerity where there were none.
The rocking stopped and a bony hand closed itself over one of her own. "And I suppose this had got to do with the wedding?"
Sakura held her words, having no knowledge of why Itachi and his father had always warred with words so long ago, she wanted to see whether this widow who was tangled with the family in different ways to herself held any knowledge or suspicions as to why Itachi had seemed to resent his father so.
When no words were said, the older woman continued with, "From what I remember, Itachi had always been headstrong, so I wouldn't be surprised if he was opposed to the idea of inter-clan marrying. But wasn't he always close to that Izumi child? If he isn't set to marry his true love then I would see why he'd be upset about it."
'Marriage? Is that really what all his arguments were about?'
The name 'Izumi' held no recollection in Sakura's mind as Sasuke had never spoken much about his family, even when they were summer green children where she would wait for him outside his traditional-styled house. Sakura thought to bookmark that name and ask Sasuke about it later, and it was while she was still musing over the fact that marriage had supposedly been a heavy topic for Itachi that she felt the iron grip of the widow's hand over hers.
Sakura looked at the woman's face who had finally turned to face her, and she could count the wrinkles lined and buried deep within her face, marking stories as they trekked all over her skin. The wispiness of her grey hair that had fallen out of her bun struck outwards, and the black eyes that looked at her were clouded with long lost memories that were just starting to fade away, and instead welcomed recognition. But it was the unsettling smile of the dry lips adorned on the widow's face that kept Sakura's green eyes occupied. The lopsided grin spoke of distrust and malice.
"But not that you would know anything about that, right?" the old woman spoke in a challenging tone, her voice hard and cold akin to the skin that was situated over Sakura's own creamy, soft hand.
"I-I don't know what you mean-" Sakura replied, struggling to disentangle herself from the older woman without actually physically hurting her.
"Sakura," her name on the woman's lips was a curse, sinful. Made to compel you to an age of damnation.
This time Sakura was able to gain back her hand, red and swollen around the knuckles, but what was damning was that this old widow had played her like a fool. Sakura watched the older woman with parted lips, wordless as she tried to piece together when exactly she had been found out. Had this woman never been deranged? Had she always known that she was not indeed Mikoto Uchiha?
"Don't look too surprised, playing people like puppets runs in the family," the widow commented, her face still firmly set into a knowing smile. "But I am impressed about you though, my grandson was right. You are good at playing into whatever role you are thrown into. I commend you for that."
Sakura blinked and took an unsteady step back before she held herself together. "Your grandson? What? Who? Were you even Fugaku's nanny?" The questions spilled out of Sakura as her mind span questions like a spin wheel.
"Do not fret, child. Nothing I told you was a lie, unlike you." Her smile was traded for a smirk. "I will tell you one last thing. If you bother me anymore, I will have no choice but to expose you and call for Itachi to come back earlier than expected. And you will not like that, the wrath that he would unleash upon you is far greater than you could ever imagine..." The old widow closed her eyes, taking in the cold breeze.
"What is it that you know of what Itachi was capable of? Do you know anymore about what happened to Mikoto? To Fugaku? To the rest of the Uchiha's?"
But she was silenced with a look of daggers and a scolding. "Hush child," her voice was a whip. "No more questions if you wish to live. The one last thing that I care to tell you..." The woman sighed. "Before I begin, you have to understand, I hated Konoha and every other nation but my own. I used to be proud of Suna, and I had a high position - well my husband did - in the field of politics. I was so proud, that was, until they cast me out.
"Despite my loath for Konoha, the Uchiha's were good to me, they allowed me to have a living, unlike the backward ways of my hometown, Suna. When my husband passed, I was forced to relocate; apparently a woman's wisdom is not needed in the politics of the land of the desert, and I had made far too many enemies in my own hometown to take solace anywhere else due to my outlandish views that women too can lead nations. So I left, and came toward a town far from any other big nation. I soon found that each property in that town belonged to the Uchiha's. But despite my fears, the Uchiha's welcomed me and even allowed me to bring my infant son to their doorstep as long as I helped to raise the future leader of the family, Fugaku.
"Anyhow, you are a strong woman. And women need to stick together regardless of our differences. My grandson is the last bit of family I have left, save for my despondent brother who still wrings his fragile bones back in Suna. My grandson also is a mastery of puppetry. It is due to one of his puppets that we knew of each of your ministrations, your whereabouts. Indeed, my grandson not only reported his findings to me, but to Itachi too, at his behest."
"But why? Why is Itachi so fixated on me?" Sakura asked, wanting to get every last bit she could out of this last conversation. "And what do you gain from you telling me all this?"
Alas, the woman just shrugged. "Itachi is not aware of my affiliations with my grandson. He does not know we are related. To answer your other question, I gain someone to listen to my old bones sing before I croak," the widow cackled. "Also because I admire strong women who clearly have their eyes set on soaring high... So I leave you with this footing to step higher towards your goals. But above even that, I adore my grandson even more. I will not jeopardise everything he has worked for to be where he is, even for a young aspiring woman like you. There is nothing more I can tell you. Now leave me, I have a wedding dress to finish."
Sakura heeds her warning and leaves her, taking the flight of stairs upwards which leads towards her room, rummaging through her thoughts and not aware of her surroundings when she feels another body come into contact with hers.
"Sorry-," Sakura begins, before looking into the person whom she had bumped into who was now holding her by the arms. "Sasuke!"
"Sakura," he simply states. "Have you spoken with her?"
Sakura nods in confirmation and beckons him to follow. "Come to my room and we'll discuss."
Sasuke watches Sakura lead but he does not follow. "I've just come from there, I've dropped your food off. It'll look suspicious if I'm seen following you around. Allow me to come back from the kitchen with a glass of wine at your request."
Sakura winces at the memory of the last time she had drank wine in the mansion and what had transpired after. "No wine," she said too quickly. "It is still midday after all... Anything but wine." And it begins: the twists and lies that they must spin in order to gain privacy with one another, and share the secrecies which they begin to unravel and hide from plain sight, with only the other for comfort in the darkness which they tread in.
The next three days pass full of conspirational whispers passing forth between two mediums who play at chess with the world. Knowledge dissipates into fragments of theories-
"Do you know of anyone called Izumi?"
"She was one of our cousins and used to be close friends with Itachi. Why?"
"The widow alluded that they could have been more than that."
"I never cared for Itachi's love life... no more than I do now. But if you think him and father had disputes over her, that could be a possibility. Although my parents always seemed fond of her, whenever she was around."
"But your mother was fond of me too. So does that really mean anything?"
"Ah, that's true."
-minds whirl together, folding into each other, as do their bodies as Sasuke pushes her into a narrow broom cupboard, his hand clamped over her mouth for fear that they would be found trading secrets.
His hand is cold.
But she finds that beneath that coldness, there is a slight warmth to it. The way he presses himself to her as he looks behind him in anticipation of being found out, the way his other hand holds hers and relieves some of her worries with a reassuring squeeze, she is sure that spring has finally come, and she does not need to go to the garden to notice how the snow has melted away or how buds and leaves are starting to sprout to know that winter has finally departed. As promised, he is here with her, and finds comfort in his presence.
With each conversation that they have, each touch of skin, his presence seems less harsh, less dark. He almost glows against her, as she relays to him information that she has recently discovered.
"The other seamstresses have finished my engagement dress. I've done the fitting, so it's all ready. I've also complied and agreed to what finger food I'd like present. And I've requested the theme to be a masquerade; anonymous. I said I wanted the butlers and maids to join in with the festivities anonymously, without fear of being judged, as the equality would resemble the partnership between me and my dear husband-to-be."
Sasuke had smirked at her, and she had taken that as approval for her thinking ahead. "I'll be there," he had said.
Why was it that his simple words had made her heart flutter?
With two days until Itachi's return, Sakura is bridled with questions she can ask of him, threaten him with if she so wishes. It is up to her how she plays the game, and Sasuke had his upmost trust in her, or so he said. She would not fail him.
She looked up at Sasuke who had managed to swipe the spare office keys from the butler that never fails to stop sniffing around Sakura, and was now sitting on his brother's office chair, with his boots atop the desk. Sakura sat opposite him as she treads carefully through the books she had found days prior, and she finds the page she was previously looking for: page 93.
"What is that?" Sasuke asks, as he takes a bottle of wine from a cabinet and fills a glass he found lying around.
"'The Fortress of the Sharingan'", Sakura reads out to him, missing the tension in his jaw. "This is the book that had the note from the Akatsuki." Sakura scans the page that had been referred to and frowns.
"What is it?" Sasuke asks, his voice tight. Sakura lifts her gaze to meet Sasuke's, her brows still stitched together.
"Has your brother ever been... fond of folklore, by any chance?" Sakura asks, chewing her lip as she awaits his response.
Sasuke's lips curl downwards as he responds, "Mother always would tell us folklore tales when we were younger, so yes. Why?"
Sakura purses her lips, unsure if she should reveal what she had just found in the textbook. But it is when he demands, "Tell me," that she gives in and complies.
"There's a passage here... on page 93. It refers to a folk tale of a boy who massacred his entire clan with the help of his 'sharingan', whatever that is, leaving only his younger brother..." she tells him, her voice close to a whisper. "Sasuke. If... If what we suspect about your brother is true... I think he really does have mental problems. And I mean mental problems that go beyond being behind arson and slaughtering your entire family. And... even if he is innocent like you wish, still. Why would he be so fixated on a folk tale that revolves around-"
"Sakura," she hears first, and then a clink of the glass set firmly against the table. "Stop." She hears the exhaustion in his words, and it is clear that she has breached a line.
"Sasuke, I'm sorry. I know he's your brother, but even you must see how odd this is. Itachi, he..." Her mind tries to grapple with words, her thoughts flicker towards the thought of Itachi leaving her inebriated and leaving her with the thought that she had been defiled, tainted by his hands. "He isn't the man you remember. He's dangerous. And with what you said about the Akatsuki being an organised gang in the underground world and what with Orochimaru's affiliation... Surely that must be enough for you to know that Itachi has serious issues."
Sasuke lets out an exasperated sigh, before he offers her a glass of her own. "Drink with me," he orders. She hesitantly takes the wine glass from him and sips; the taste is too strong for her liking, and she places the glass atop the desk, her lips forming into a scowl at her distaste.
"I know this is hard for you Sasuke... But you don't need to close yourself off when you're around me. You know that, right?" Sakura says, her voice calming as a steady stream of water.
He stares at her for a long minute before he says, "I know you mean well, Sakura. And I know we're at the focal point of discovering more about Itachi... But right now, it's... overwhelming."
Sakura climbs onto the desk until she is sitting closer to him, her legs hanging off near his side of the desk. "Tell me what you need me to do to ease the pain," she immediately offers herself to him. "Once upon a time I wanted to open a mental health facility, and that is still true today. Use me as you like Sasuke."
But he shakes his head and a small sad smile makes its home onto his face. "You don't need to do anything. Your presence is enough. Just... Let's not talk about Itachi right now." His voice is soft, and she feels his vulnerability, he almost opens up to her slightly, but like always, he is mostly closed off. The door to his soul aches for her to push it open, but for fear that he would flee, she does not. Instead, her hand lands on his knee as she squeezes it, hoping he knows that she will always be present for him, close by for when he chooses to open that door wider by himself at his own accord.
His hand creeps forward and lands on hers, and she swears that there is a shift between them, but she cannot say what is it or what it could mean. But all she does know is that the world suddenly feels all right as she gazes longingly into his dark onyx eyes. Whatever had been rummaging through her brain the last few days had finally been put to rest and folded away into a tight little box, just at the mere touch of his hand.
His other hand comes forward and traces the left side of her face, and she leans into his touch. It is a gentle caress, but she is born again through it. She can feel him settling into her heart, making home inside of her, and she allows it. She feels herself sinking into his magnetic field, and she does not fight it. She wants this, she realises. However, what exactly 'this' is she is still unsure. Her left hand settles over his hand that cups her cheek.
'To think that I could be an Uchiha...' she thinks to herself. Her left hand leaves his before grasping at the pendant that hangs from her neck, she feels unworthy of wearing such a thing, knowing how much it supposedly means to Sasuke. Her hand squeezes over the pendant, wondering if she would ever be worthy to wear such a thing... If she would ever be worthy beneath his gaze, and not just someone who wears his family's name as easily as she wears his mother's jewels. There is a queer look on his face that passes before it settles into stone.
He seems to misunderstand her reasons for grasping at the necklace as he says, "Keep it."
"No, Sasuke," she shakes her head in defiance, deciding to feed into his trail of thought. "I... Once this is all over, you can have it. It belongs to you."
"It belongs to the Uchiha matriarch," he quips back, a slight tease in his voice.
She scoffs at his words, but she feels the stifling tension that threatens to break her come back and haunt her heart. "Only because of the wrong guy," she mumbles to herself lowly, hoping that he did not catch her words as close as she is. As she lifts her gaze she finds his face to be impassive as he studies her thoughtfully.
"Sakura..." he begins, and there is a slight hesitation in his voice as he slowly draws his hands away from her. "If you no longer want to be a part of this... If you want out, I'll understand. Just say so, and I'll deal with everything myself."
But she is too tightly roped in. She is chained to the tethers, and she recalls when he had pleaded for her to comply with his wishes in the alley. She wets her lips before she addresses him. "I can do it," she tells him. "Like we said, we'll do it together. I only want to help relieve your pain, Sasuke. That much I can at least try to do." The tides have changed, the rhythm of her pulse quickening as she takes in his form; her heart has been captured and he has seeped into her bones, her veins belonging to him as she does as he wishes.
He nods at her admission and brings his head close to hers, until their foreheads touch.
"Thank you, Sakura," he tells her.
His warm breath and the closeness of him ignites a spark in her, and she wants nothing more than to wrap her arms around him, bringing him even closer. It is as she does so, bringing one arm around that suddenly she feels the whack of a solid and then sees the stained wine splattered over his white shirt.
"Fuck," he breathes out. "That's the only shirt I brought with me tonight."
"Sorry!" she apologises, whilst padding his wine-stained shirt with some tissues she found on the desk. "Would that be a problem?"
"Shit, yeah. Previous workers have been admonished and sometimes even let go off if they act carelessly," Sasuke vaguely explained. "I'll need to get this cleaned up, washed."
He lowers his feet off the desk and then grabs her by the wrist, causing her to slip off the desk where she too is perched. As he leaves the rooms and beckons her onward with a nod towards the end of the hall, she understands his intentions. Quickly, she puts everything back where she found it, locking the door behind her as she allows Sasuke to move across the hallway first. A heartbeat later she follows his shadow, until they come to a corner where they meet again. She is pushed against a wall as he towers over her, his arms outstretched above her head, his head angled backwards as he looks over his shoulder listening to the whispers across the corridor.
"...she's been out of her room more often lately..."
"...talking to a lot of us now, maybe to get to know what she'll inherit through her marriage, I suppose..."
"...she seems to have a few favourites though. That new guy that oversees the kitchen from time to time..."
"..the one with the waistcoat?"
"...stopped wearing it so often in the kitch...
Her heart thuds against her chest as their voices near and then slowly fade away just as their footsteps too recede. She is all too familiar with the closeness of Sasuke's body against hers that she does not even realise it, until he pulls away, and she feels almost disappointed by the loss. A familiar comfort that has been snagged away.
"That was too close," he states as he peers around the corner. "We'll have to be more careful."
"Then why did you wait for me?" she accuses, sceptical at why he would risk for her to catch up knowing that his fellow 'colleagues' were nearby.
"My shift ended hours ago, I shouldn't even be here," he informs her, still looking around. When he is sure that the coast is clear, he alludes that she should go first by gesticulating with his chin.
Fifteen minutes after she secludes into her own room, she hears the faint rhythm of pebble against glass and she opens her balcony doors as Sasuke clambers inside.
"You're really making a habit of this, aren't you?" she drawls. She shakes her head at the red marks that mar his hands and takes the dock leaves which she has stashed away in her bedside table.
"Ten minutes," he reminds her regarding the dock leaves. It is then that he begins to unbutton his shirt as he prowls towards her en suite bathroom and runs his shirt under the tap, before sponging it with cool water and using the detergent thereafter.
Sakura leaves him to it as she undresses for the night before adorning her nightgown. She hears him call her and she responds with, "The hairdryer is in one of my closets."
It is as he comes into the room topless, that she notices it. Just behind his left shoulder, it sits. He is brandished with a mark that looks eerily similar to one that Itachi had spoken of when telling her about the notorious Orochimaru, not that she believed it. However, the blotches of spirals that are tattooed onto Sasuke's skin speaks otherwise, and a gasp elicits from her lips.
He freezes as he catches her gawking at him through her wardrobe mirror. His eyes narrow as he realises her line of sight.
"What is it?" he asks, once again, his tone is cold and harsh. His words used as a weapon, rather than a seabed of comfort.
She floats towards him, light on her feet, arms slightly outstretched as if tending to a wild animal.
Her fingers lay against his skin, marking the stain with her own touch, as if her presence could heal and mend the skin over the ink, concealing the tainted curse that sits beneath his skin.
"This marking..." she whispers, lost in her own thoughts.
"It's nothing," he brushes her off, brushes her away with a shrug of his shoulder.
"Don't lie to me!" she snaps, brought out of her reverie. "I wish to know the fatal flaw that makes you long to be magnificently cursed. Why would you agree to Orochimaru's terms? What does he have over you, Sasuke?"
"It's nothing like that," he says again, continuing to blow dry his wet shirt.
"Then what is it like?! Because from what I've heard from Itachi, Orochimaru only gives that marking to people who have agreed to give up their body for experiments! Your life isn't that worthless, Sasuke! You still have people who care for you, even after you find out what's been going on with Itachi. Don't you know that me and Naruto, we- You're a part of us! These last ten months have been so gruelling without you. You don't know how hard it's been for either of us, and now you just, you just want to give it all away?!" Sakura was shrieking at this point.
"Sakura, calm down," Sasuke said, his voice low. "It's not like that. I haven't agreed to anything. So there's nothing to worry about."
"Then why do you-"
He gave her a stern look that told her that the topic of conversation was over before he put his shirt on again.
He let out a heavy sigh and turned around fully to face her. "If it's any consolation, I can stay the night again. But you have to drop it. I mean it, Sakura," his eyes were almost feral as he spoke her name.
Truth be told, she had been able to sleep peacefully the one night he stayed previously. All her other nights had been flooded with dreams of her being drugged and then torturing herself as her own nails dug into her skin, leaving bruises and imprints of her own tattered ruins painted all over her body. She had not disclosed this information to Sasuke, but he had somehow known of her discomfort of sleeping alone in this abode where she trusts no one else but him.
"Fine," she ends up agreeing, seething that he had won and taken advantage of her traumatised state. "But after we're done with Itachi's bullshit, we're ridding you off that mark, understood?" Even if she could not be privileged to know how or why he was tattooed with Orochimaru's mark, she swore to herself that she would relieve him of it.
"Fine, whatever," came his elusive response.
She watches him as he settles atop her pillows, making himself comfortable. Noticing how he does not change into the spare night clothes that he had left in her room a few days prior, indicating that he does not plan to stay the entire night.
'What other secrets do you keep from me? What terrors have you seen?'
But his eyes drift asleep anyway, and his breath becomes soft and shallow as he escapes into his dream state. She wishes she too can find peace in her sleep, but how could she, when just his presence alone brings her the peace she desires in short fantasies of her reality. Does he not know that he has already brought her to her dreamland, just like he had so many summer's ago, at the ripe age of seven? Is he not aware that he is the ivy, the clover fields, that bloom all over and take hostage of her heart made of stone, casting it with a golden glow?
Does he not know that it pains her so dreadfully so to see him battle his wars, and alone, at that?
Oh, does he not know that he is the stealer of hearts, and hers has been captured by his cunning hands?
She takes the dock leaves and rub it gently across his tarnished hands, merging his with hers, intertwining their fingers, longing to be just that little bit closer, in mind and spirit.
She sleeps with the knowledge that her greyest skies had been painted in blue, and that she longs to sleep beside her friend for evermore.
He is the gust of wind that alights her, brandishes all her colours until she is golden. She dreams of spring, for he is at her fingertips, awaiting her call - the one where she realises her true place beside him. It would be then, that all the creatures of the earth would harmonise together, making sense of things that would otherwise not fit together.
She sleeps.
And he stays.