She did not want to admit to herself but who was Hinata kidding. She can no longer hide what has been going on for the pass few weeks. She's falling and she's falling hard; even though she knew she was someone who was always grounded. Feet never leaving the safety of the earth. Is this even worth it, she found herself asking. He was supposed to just be a distraction, a mere place holder. So why is he occupying her thoughts so much now? Why is that when she closes her eyes she imagines his dark and always brooding eyes staring back at her? When she lays at night alone, oh so alone, why is it his hands that she feels. His hands that she yearns the warmth from.
Even in class when she is supposed to be drilling math equations that she most certainly will never use in her daily life, she is staring out the window dreaming about running her hands through his long hair. To which surprised her the first time when she brushed his hair back. His locks could rival her own with how silky and smooth it is.
A lot of things surprised Hinata about him. Like the way his voice sounds to her sensitive ears. He always spoke in a low quiet voice, she knew this, but when they are alone together his voice melts into something so melodic. The baritone colors harmonizes the space they occupied and constantly gave her shivers. Especially when his mouth would be right next to her ears, whispering sweet nothings. It also did not help when he'd use that mouth of his to nip her ears.
And do not get her started on his chest, gosh his chest. So wide, so expansive Hinata could not help but compare to that of the wingspan of an eagle. There is so much to touch and explore. He has no hair on his chest, something Hinata actually enjoys, easier for her hands to glide over. His chest is smooth yet hard, feeling like someone who knows how to take care of their body.
But Hinata thinks what she enjoys the most about him is his response to her. To her touches, to her kisses, to her body. The way he would press into her hands when she'd graze his chest. The way he would lean in deeper and deeper to their kisses. And the way he would just look at her up and down with those complicated eyes of his. He made her feel so wonderful, so wanted.
And maybe that's why she is now feeling the winds pass her whole being, brisk air whipping by her cheeks, hands breezing by clouds that decorate the sky, hair gliding in all directions— and looking down she sees no end. There is no landing point, no end goal. Just a black void that most certainly will engulf her one day, well engulf would be preferable as she'd just be floating in a sea of nothing.
This brings her a great deal of dread because there could only be one outcome from this, what she calls, exchange from the two of them. And it would be of her splattered on the cold dark floor when he realizes she isn't worth his pretty words, kisses, and touch as he will just finds someone else to occupy his time.
Heh. It's been a while since I wrote something. I hope this reads as well as I intend and not as word vomit. That would make me very sad. I want to expand on this but I'm a terrible writer and can't follow through for shit. But if you wanna stick around you're more than welcome to cause I do intend to write more. Just don't hate me if I disappear for another 2 years.