The Cinderella Fairytale Rundown

Sorry for not updating regularly, but I will now. Hopefully before university starts on March, I would've finished it or at least halfway there. Thank you for reading and reviewing, my faithful readers. -hugs-

"I'm Not Going Without You"

Hinata heard the car before she saw it, grinding slowly down the track towards the house and disturbing the peace and tranquillity of her hideaway.

A neighbour come to welcome her? The postman?

From her vantage point in the office over the garage, she peered down the driveway a little warily. "Who is it, Akamaru?" she asked, her voice instinctively lowered. The white-breed retriever whined and stood up on his back legs, his front paws on the windowsill. His white head turned to watch Hinata. Such an odd expression on Akamaru, that Hinata began to have suspicion that the person coming up to the driveway was someone she knew.

The ghostly silver bonnet of Naruto's Mercedes nosed through the gateway, its headlights gleaming dully in the fading light, and her heart sank as the car crunched over the gravel and came to rest beside her much more modest Ford.

How on earth had he found her? She'd been so careful, cleared everything away without trace, or so she'd thought. But I cleaned the attic spotless, haven't I?

There must've been something lying around, some little clue.

Damn. Hinata chastised herself and she took a few steps back, her footsteps muffled by the pair of soft bedroom slippers. Her back met the wall, her hand automatically reached out to cover her forehead. She'd always known he'd find her in the end, because he didn't give up on anything. However, Hinata had hoped for a few more days – maybe even weeks – to sort her thoughts out.

And now he was here.

Still.

Maybe he'd ring the bell and go away if she didn't show herself. She quickly grabbed Akamaru's collar, pulling him down beside her. He whined in protest and tried to jump again, but she hung on tight.

"Ssh, Akamaru. Be quiet," she whispered.

He whined again, recognising the sound o the car, and she wrapped her hand around his muzzle and stroked him with the other hand, trying to calm him. "Good boy. Hush now. Maybe he'll go away."

Not a chance, Hinata snorted softly under her breath, and Akamaru knew it. Just in case though, she hung on to his muzzle lest he was determined to bark a greeting. Hinata petted him constantly to keep him quiet.

Edging up to the window, she peered down on the drive and watched.

Naruto got out of his car, straightened himself and then looked around; his eyes narrowed, scanning for clues. First, he checked out her car, then he went over to the cottage and knocked on the door before turning the handle and going in.

How dare he just walk into her house? Hinata fumed, crossing to the other side of the room, peeping through the roof-light to get a better view.

Hinata could see him going from room to room, flicking lights on, prowling. She watched him move around, doing his tour of inspection. It didn't take him long. There were only two rooms downstairs, one at each end, and the stairs running from side to side with the bathroom behind them. Above were two bedrooms, hers and the store, and a big cupboard full of knick-knacks.

Surely he couldn't be much longer, Hinata thought, the adrenaline surging through her body and it made her heart race.

It didn't take him long and he emerged from the front door, shrugging down inside his coat collar against the bitter wind, and she moved back a little from the window, her heart pounding with suspense. Maybe he'd think he'd come to the wrong house and would go away.

Or not.

He looked up at the window, his eyes seemingly fixed on her face, and even from the distance she could see their piercing aquamarine blue. Hinata shrank back into the shadows, getting a better grip on the wiggling dog.

Akamaru could hear his master coming, hear the crunch of footsteps on the stones and the squeak of the handle as the door opened at the bottom of the stairs. A blast of icy cold air invaded their cosy little hideaway; Akamaru whimpered and squirmed in her hands. The stairs creaked under a firm, steady tread, and Naruto's head appeared over the top step, his eyes assessing.

"Hello, Hinata," he said, and the dog, displaying a singular lack of judgment, hurled himself out of her arms and hit him in mid chest.

Traitor, Hinata huffed.

Naruto staggered back when Akamaru threw himself at him, giving him a wet and welcoming lick-greet. Naruto rubbed the dog affectionately. "Hello, Akamaru." He gently push the dog down out of the way and climbed the last few stairs. Naruto looked around, his eyes like twin blue lasers, scanning the sophisticated computer equipment, the notes pinned up on the wall, the collection of mugs by the keyboard.

"Nice little place you've got here."

Hinata sat down in front of the computer, blocking his view of the desk, or trying to. "What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm and not give in to the anger building in her.

"Interesting set-up," he said, ignoring her question and continuing inspection of her pinboard. "What's the business?"

"Mine," Hinata said a little hostilely. She cleared her throat. "It's mine, and it's private. I repeat, what are you doing here, Naruto?"

His eyes met hers, red rimmed with exhaustion but determined; the blue of his irises touched with flint. "I would've thought it was obvious. I've come to take you home," he said softly, and her traitorous heart kicked in her ribs.

"Not a chance. I told you I want to think," she said, putting up a front.

"You can think at home."

"No, I can't. I just want this time to myself. You should've rung. Now, you have a wasted journey. I've got nothing to say to you at the moment, and I want you to leave. This is my house, my office, my life."

"And you're my wife."

"Am I?" Hinata asked bluntly, and Naruto recoiled a fraction, as if she'd struck a painful blow.

Good, she thought, ruthlessly crushing her guilt. She was fed up of him taking her for granted. She stood up, gathering the cups together and standing waiting by the top of the stairs. She gestured for him to go down, but he just smiled and took her chair at the desk, turning on the monitor and tapping keys on her computer and opening files, flicking through her personal business with ridiculous ease and a casual disregard for her privacy.

"Leave it alone! That's nothing to do with you," Hinata fumed, ready to dump the dregs of the cups on his head. Naruto spun around in the chair and fixed her with those piercing eyes.

"You're a web designer," he said slowly.

"Ten out of ten. Out."

Naruto unfolded himself from the desk and stepped closer, searching her face. "There was no need for you to leave. You could've told me you wanted to do it," he said, his voice seductive, almost convincing.

"I wanted it to be mine," she said, and he gave a tiny huff of laughter.

"Mine again. You seemed to be using that word a lot. Whatever happened to ours?"

"Yours, you mean."

His eyes narrowed, then shrugged. "I don't know what's eating you, Hinata, but we'll talk about it when you come home."

"I'm not coming home," she repeated emphatically, but he just smiled.

"Oh, I think you are."

That was it. Hinata dumped the contents of the mugs on his head and stomped off down the stairs, leaving him swearing under his breath and brushing ineffectually at his clothes. A smile tugged at her mouth, but she suppressed it. It was a childish thing to have done, but he'd provoked her beyond endurance, and she wasn't going to laugh it off. God forbid he should think she wasn't serious about this. She was done being dictated to.

Naruto was right behind her, his temper barely under control. Hinata felt a tiny fission of anticipation. She hadn't seen him really angry for ages, but she knew she could trust him not to hurt her, and right then, she was spoiling for a fight.

She marched over to the cottage, just half a stride ahead of him, and he was through the door behind her before she had time to slam it in his face.

"It won't work, Hinata," he said grimly, following her into the kitchen with Akamaru at his heels. "I'm not going without you."

"Well, I'm not going, you're not staying, so it's going to be a bit tricky, really, isn't it?"

"I mean it," he said, his voice taut with determination, all that earlier gentle coaxing game banished by the coffee dregs in his hair. "I'm not going to walk away from this. You are my wife, and if you think you can just run off like this without talking about it, you're mistaken."

"I hardly ran off."

"No? Then why didn't you tell me where you were going, and what you were doing? And what the hell is this business you've been running in the attic of my house without telling me? How long has it been going on?"

"Our house," Hinata snapped. "Do I need to ask your permission on that?" She threw the mugs into the sink with loud thunks. Washing the mugs vigorously, she transferred all her irritation into making them spotless.

Naruto sighed with the harsh exhalation filled with the same frustration and irritation that she was feeling. After she was done, she turned around just as he hooked out a chair from the table and dropped wearily into it. His eyes were tired and red-rimmed, his face was drawn, and she remembered he'd been travelling now for over 24 hours.

He didn't have to come up here after me, she reminded herself. It was his choice.

Then, a little dribble of stale coffee trickled off his hair and down his temple and dripped onto his coat, and Hinata felt a twinge of guilt. Her guilt prompted a partial climb-down.

"I'll make you tea, then you can go," she conceded.

Hinata waited for a second, but instead of repeating his intention to stay, he merely settled back, folded his arms across his chest and smiled.

Rats.

He looked so sexy when he did that, sexy enough to distract her – but only for a moment.

Hinata reminded herself of all the reasons why she was here – his authoritarian behaviour, his expectations of her, the time he spent away from home when she was left holding the fort.

Holding the baby? Hinata shuddered to think what would have happened if she had conceived. Would he have come home at all, without the need to impregnate her at regular intervals?

No, there was no way she was going back to him. Not yet, at least, and maybe not ever.

Even if he did have the sexiest eyes she'd ever seen. She'd fallen for them years ago. She wasn't falling for them again.

Oh no…

I feel like I've written a lot :P though some of you might say I write little. Haha. Was listening to Avril Lavigne 'Nobody Home' when I wrote this. Thank you again for your loyalty. :)