Chapter 8 – Dig Your Own Grave. This One's Mine.
Okay, so Temari didn't actually pounce on Itachi.
She had too much self-respect to do that in front of a hundred people in a public area.
In private however…
Ignoring that thought, she adopted a casual expression and leant her body forward, making his eyes drift back to her not very flaunted cleavage. It wasn't all that obvious with the kimono she was wearing and yet his eyes kept dropping throughout their entire conversation no matter how much he was trying to keep them on her face.
Even if it was only so her brothers didn't slaughter him in his sleep.
It wasn't that he thought they could it was more that it would get him in too much trouble with both villages if he killed the Kazekage and his brother over their sister.
Not to mention that she would kill him herself.
Either way, he tried to concentrate on the conversation at hand, a casual conversation about jutsu's and the goings-on of the villages. Just a casual conversation between two normal people, right?
Wrong.
All the while they were talking he was undressing her with his eyes and she was shamelessly flirting back, both thinking that they were succeeding in their own plans when really, they were just digging themselves deeper and deeper into a hole.
She wanted him to want her. He wanted her to want him.
A vicious, unending cycle.
One that seemed destined to end up in the worst possible scenario.
They wanted each other.
But they could never be together. For obvious reasons. He was a homicidal sociopath with an alarming superiority complex who had murdered his entire family and she was a extraordinarily dominant female with violent tendencies towards anything that lived.
And yet they dismissed the negative (albeit safe) thoughts from their minds and concentrated instead on the spell they were weaving around themselves.
By no means was it love. Neither trusted anything enough to ever love another. Both had been hurt too much to ever even contemplate the idea that someone could like them without any strings attached. In turn, hat meant they could never give their heart to another.
No, it was more of a temporary lust or liking and a feeling that they were in the same situation, as with every uttered word they felt a kinship, that subtle connection between two people as breakable as a moth's wing and as strong as diamond. That need to feel – even if only temporarily – that they are not alone.
It was on a subconscious level that they both realized that they wanted each other.
The same place that said it would never work out.
They were from different villages with different laws. She placed her brothers before her; he couldn't care less if his lived or died. She was insecure; he was vain.
The one thing they had in common was the main thing stopping them.
Neither was willing to make the first move.
It could never work out.
But still they hoped.
"I have a sneaking suspicion that you're gay," were Sakura's first words to Gaara after they had entered the restaurant.
Again she got the same reply of "Hn" from him, making her curious as to what it would take for him to say something else.
She had nothing to lose no matter what she did to him. It would be considered bad form for him to kill her and would put a severe strain on the alliance. Being Kazekage, he was supposed to have the best interest of his own village in mind and putting tension on the alliance was not something he could afford to do.
She could – in her own mind – try anything she wanted and not have that many consequences.
What could he really do?
Well, he could lock me up, and then- cursing, Sakura broke off the thought.
I'm going to be stuck with him for pretty much the rest of my life, why shouldn't I have some fun? She asked herself, sticking with her theory that she had nothing to lose.
So, she smiled seductively at him, making him instantly cautious because he could no longer see her hands.
Gaara just mentally shrugged and went back to glaring at nothing.
Until he felt the hand slowly creeping up his thigh.
What the?
Looking down, he followed the arm up to its owner.
Seeing her bright smile, the innocent look tainted with a hint of mischief, he did what he usually did when he was faced with an annoying female.
He glared.
Seeing his reaction, Sakura did two things. The first was to smile wider, irritating him.
The second was to make her hand travel higher.
Normally she wasn't this forward. But in normal conditions, she wouldn't be sitting next to him for the reasons she was now.
She had decided to drop all her acting and just be herself. It would be so much harder if she was nice for a few weeks and then suddenly changed moods or if she had random uncontrollable mood swings that was really just her acting and her personality warring in her mind for dominance.
She continued with her innocent façade. To everyone else in the restaurant, she just looked like an innocent girl out at a dinner with a heartless bastard. Okay, so the part where she was sitting next to Gaara may have put a damper on the whole innocent thing, but maybe she would just look like a damsel in distress.
In any case no one suspected where her hand was. Hells, she didn't even think that Itachi could have guessed. The only one who would assume such a thing was Kakashi, her old sensei and that was because he was perverted.
Even if he would have been right.
Not getting a sufficient reaction from him, Sakura started massaging is thigh under the table, becoming bolder as he tensed. She knew she had achieved her goal when he growled at her and grabbed her wrist, pulling it away from his leg and placing it firmly on the table.
Another glare and he turned to his brother, faking casual conversation just to show her what he felt about her doing that.
Or at least what he wanted her to think he felt.
Really, she had noticed the nearly non-existent shiver that racked his body when she rubbed a hand over the pressure point on the inside of his thigh, making it relax and… uh… feelings to make themselves known in his lower regions.
You'd think that since they didn't notice me feeling him up then they shouldn't notice me blushing, she thought in vain.
She was as red as Gaara's hair, which was no mean feat.
At least he isn't gay, she thought cursing the fact that she couldn't seem to control her mind.
Although she did continue rubbing his thigh.
Gaara on the other hand, was decidedly male. Having a gorgeous female with a killer body rubbing his thigh in a highly suggestive manner wasn't doing all that much for his morals in the way that if she continued he wouldn't be waiting for marriage.
Somehow managing to decide – even though he really couldn't give a fuck – to give her – Sakura, right? – a taste of her own medicine, he put his hand on her thigh and did to her exactly as she did to him – that being rubbing his hand from knee to mid thigh.
Unlike him though, her reaction was not one of stoic impassiveness. Instead, her entire leg tensed up as her eyes went wide and her breath left her lips in a rush. Apparently that spot on her thigh was rather sensitive.
Showing no mercy – like in every other aspect of his life, Gaara continued to put various degrees of pressure on the one pressure point that was about midway up her thigh.
Raising his non-brow at the look on her face, he casually demanded that she tell him why it was that she looked like she was in pain. "Couldn't have a guest suffering now, can we?" were his mocking words, making all sorts of violent mental images appear in her brain.
Many included the casual and perfectly normal dismemberment of his hands.
But then he wouldn't be able to do that and more! Sakura's perverted inner thoughts came to the foreground, giving her mental images that were definitely not good for the self control she had gained over the years.
At this rate, you're gonna jump him and !!YAY!! more fun for me!! Came those evil little thoughts again, providing her with even more detailed mental images.
Time passed rapidly for the group, all of whom were too immersed in their thoughts to really care about a simple little thing like time. Before they knew it, the meal was over and the cheque was paid and it was time to go back home to a nice, comfy bed big enough for two where they could –
Both women cut of the thought before it showed on their faces in the form of a tell-tale blush, preferring to let the semi-conscious part of their minds do all of the thinking and planning for later when–
Shit! If this keeps up, I'll never get back to the room before… er… something extremely embarrassing happens, were the surprisingly similar thoughts of the two kunoichi.
Making their way to the house, the group managed to successfully maintain a calm façade, all the while wishing they could just give in to the decidedly evil thoughts inside their heads.
When they got inside and to the doorways to their rooms, however, was when all hell broke loose.
In the form of clothes going everywhere.
A/N - Apologies for being so very late in updating. Recently – as in the past few months – I started a LAW degree. Sadly, because I'm only fifteen – and my birthday was only last month – I still have a full school workload so it is getting very hard to update.