Woo 3
For the duration of the month, Hinata continued to give her usual, poised reaction to the lunches he made her, to the point that it was suspiciously consistent.
Disheveled, dehydrated, and slightly singed, Sasuke lowered the tray of cinnamon rolls to Hinata's desk on the last day of their internship at the academy. He was still wearing oven-mitts, as he had come straight from home to ensure they would be warm for her. In fact, Sasuke had stopped teaching his class altogether so that more time could be dedicated to his recipes. He had made sure to cast a genjutsu on his students, which gave them the impression that he was teaching them every day when they came to school, when in actuality, they were just sitting at their desks in silence as they stared at the blank chalk board for eight hours straight.
Hinata stared at Sasuke as he turned around, and just as he began to stalk off, she grabbed his hand in both of hers. He glanced back at her.
She was prettier than she knew she was, with her ghost white eyes; the amethyst tone of her hair. In fact, the contrast between her eyes and her hair gave her an ethereal look about her, that might have contributed to his desperation to – what? Win her over? Ignore her in consequence? As Sasuke sat down, glaring at their joined hands, he began to realize that he did not know what it was he wanted from her.
And perhaps the aptitude of her students was more than just coincidental, because Hinata seemed far more informed than he was. "You don't have to woo me…" she mumbled, and as he lifted his gaze to her face, he saw that her eyes were downcast, a faint blush on her cheeks – the one usually reserved for Naruto.
Sasuke clenched his jaw. "I'm not–" But he paused as he pondered; was that what he was doing? Trying to woo the Hyuuga?
"I'm yours. I was always yours," she said, her grip on his hand tightening, though she still wouldn't meet his eyes. "Drunk or sober," she whispered, her blush deepening.
And as Sasuke tried to process this information, Hinata leaned over and kissed him, so simply and suddenly, that her allegation was all but the contrary. She wasn't his. He was hers.
After Hinata had lightly claimed his lips…then claimed them again, she pulled back, her hands sliding down from his. He was left feeling numb, high, and a little violated. She offered him a weak, mischievous smile, as though she had no regrets about what she had done.
Not thinking – not allowing himself to think – Sasuke leaned over and kissed her harder, attempting to win back some of his power, though it might have been a lost cause. Neither had realized how much they had missed this intimacy until they had gotten another taste. His lips not breaking from hers, Sasuke scooped her up and carried her away as her ghost-faced students stared and wondered why the psychotic teacher from next door was kidnapping their sweet Hinata-sensei.
(lolwhut?)
