I have a little something to brag about, I finally saw Naruto the last movie.. It was AMAZING! it is the perfect movie for Naruhina fans! I'm just a little disappointed about Sasuke being in the movie for less than a minute. -_-

Hinata's Lost Journals

Sunday, May 6, 2012

8:00 a.m.

I'm sitting in the coffee shop next to the gallery, at the same corner table that I once sat at when my Master charged in, took me into the bathroom, and spanked me. That memory is why I'm here-to remind myself that I drew a line in the sand that day. It's part, though not all, of the reason I rarely come here anymore.

Ava is the other part, and not just because she saw us come out of that bathroom together. Ava is... I think I'll save her for another entry. I have enough to fret about as it is.

Back to that day here in the coffee shop. When my Master, who wasn't my Master yet, had spanked me in the bathroom, it had aroused me and confused me. Just thinking about that moment when he'd yanked my skirt up and made me agree to let him spank me, and the moment his hand had touched my backside, the erotic charge that had followed, sent a sizzle down my spine. And when it was over, the easy way his finger slid inside me had shattered me into orgasm. I'm wet just thinking about it, when I should be angry. Exactly what I felt then.

Regardless of liking what he'd done to me, I hadn't like where he'd done it. I'd set a hard limit of nothing between us ever happening at a place that was frequented by those involved with the gallery.

It was the only hard limit I've ever set, though there were other limits I'd liked to have set. The only one-and yet he crossed that line yesterday. He knew how I felt about this when he sent Master Two to me yesterday. I need to remember that, in order to stay strong.

I am not just a way for him to feel powerful. I won't be that anymore.

11:00 p.m.

The event was spectacular. The desserts a little piece of heaven. I passed on the crème brûlée; I couldn't get myself to eat his favorite sweet. The artist, a kindred spirit with the name of Keioko Ii, sold several paintings and was beyond ecstatic. And now I'm at home, about to take a hot bath, alone.

"He" didn't call. He hasn't called again. And he won't. That would give me the power. And lord only knows, that would be a sin. I'm just glad I'm off tomorrow. I plan to organize my apartment and do a little decorating.

Monday, May 7, 2012

7:00 p.m.

Last night, or I guess technically early this Monday morning, around twoish, there was a knock on my door. I sat up with my heart thundering, flashing back of the night Toneri had gotten drunk and threatened me, then showed up at my apartment. I still can't believe a guy I date a few times went quite crazy, and I still can't shake the feeling he's still around. Maybe that the foreboding feeling?

I'd wrapped myself in a robe to cover up my skimpy "PINK" sleep shirt and stood at my door. "Who's there?"

"It's me, Hinata."

His voice slid through me like hot buttered rum, warm, rich, and enticing. The weakness I'd feared he would evoke in me was instantaneous, and I hadn't even opened the door. I pressed my hand to the wood separating us. "You aren't supposed to be back yet."

"Are you going to let me in?"

I thought of saying "no," but it wasn't a real consideration. I had to see him. I had to feel him close. I turned the lock and pulled open the door.

He stood there, so.. so devastatingly handsome, his hair and clothes rumpled like he'd had a rough night of travel. And the look on his face did me in. His eyes were dark, tormented, his expression stark, worried, expressive. He thought I might turn him away, and it was eating him alive.

At that moment, I didn't care why he worried or what his motivation might be. I didn't think about the impact of a Master as powerful as him losing control of his submissive, and how it might make him react. All I knew right then was that he was afraid of losing me. And me him...

We moved at the same time. I backed into the apartment and he stepped inside, kicking the door shut. I was in his arms in a flash, him lifting me, my legs wrapping around his waist. His mouth came down on mine and he tasted like more of that hot buttered rum I'd heard in his voice, but better, spicier. Sweeter, because I'd feared I'd never taste him again, or feel him, or touch him.

He laid me down on my bed, coming down on top of me, and our lips parted, breaking the drugging kiss. He stared down at me, his eyes intense, stormy.

"How are you?" I whispered, daring to touch his cheek without permission, reveling in the way he let me.

"I.. I had to see you." His mouth came down on mine again, his tongue stroking deeply, possessively. And yes, there was a command in the kiss, a command that I submit, but there was more, too. There was passion, so much passion. The kind of passion he holds in check and denies me.

He wasn't in check then. He wasn't in control. But neither was I. Not with his, wonderful body on top of mine, the weight of him arousing me, teasing me with the moment he would be inside me. I wanted that so badly, it hurt.

I have to be strong.

He tugged my robe loose and his hand slid over my ribs and caressed my breast, fingers teasing my nipple.

"Stop," I said.

He continued touching me. Kissing me.

"Red, red."

He freezes. "I came here to see you and you're telling me to stop, Hinata?"

I look down, unable to make eye contact with him. He can't see how much this is all hurting me. A Master should know his submissive like the back of his hand. "Not tonight," I whisper. "I-I want to just.. lay by your side."

"Hinata-"

"Please, I beg you Master. Just tonight."

He begins to crawl his was up to the headboard. Once he's in a good position, he stretches his left arm open, motioning me to join him. Slowly, our breathing became even, our muscles relaxing, bodies melting into each other's. Neither of us spoke. It was as if we both thought words would destroy what our bodies had communicated.

At some point, he grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and gave it to me. I didn't even realize I was crying. When I would have gotten up to go to the bathroom, he pulled me back against him, wrapping his leg over mine and burying his head in my neck. I had the impression he thought that if I left the bed, I wouldn't come back.

Looking back now, he might have been right. My mind would have started running as wildly as my has always responded to him, telling me all the reasons why what I'm doing is a big mistake.

"I have a question, Hinata." He says quietly after a long moment of silence.

"Yes?" I ask.

He hesitates. "What type of guys are you into?"

I blanch. What? Well isn't this random? "You are my type, Master."

He groans. "No, seriously. Brunets? Gingers? Blonds? Tall, short, you know.."

What's with these off character questions? I hold him closer to me, look up and say, "I'm attracted to the kind of guys who are tall, blond with crystal blue eyes. Just like you. I'm attracted to you, Master."

He stays quiet for a long moment, until I see a small smile. He begins stroking my hair. "I'm attracted to brunettes, who are petite, beautiful, short, with long hair, with ivory skin.. Like you." He says slowly looking down at me.

I could still feel my face getting warm. Is he flirting or being cheesy? "I thought you were into the Barbie kind of girls, you know, blonde, tall and stuff." I can't help but tease him.

"No, I'm not into blondes. Let's sleep," he says softly.

No command. No demand that we go to his place.

"You're going to stay here?"

"Yes. I'm staying here."

Stunned, I lay there a moment before a smile curved my lips and my lashes lowered. He was here. And he was willing to do things he wouldn't normally do. It was enough for the moment.

And then the nightmare came...

I was floating in the icy bay facedown again, alone. So cold and so alone. Everything went black and icy and then black again... and then I was above my body, watching it float.

In a heavy gasp for air, I sat up, shaking from the impact of the dream.

He was there, sitting up with me, his strong arms wrapping around me from behind. "Easy, baby. You're okay. It was a bad dream."

I sucked in a hard-earned breath and tried to bring the room into focus, the tension in my body slowly easing. He stroked my hair, reminding me he had gentleness in him and that it had been a long time since he's let me see it.

"You haven't had a nightmare in months," he murmured.

"They've come back," I whispered and let him pull me back down so that we were on our sides facing each other. He grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed and pulled it over us. I rested my head on my pillow and he did the same on the spare beside me. Had we ever laid face to face like this in bed before?

"What time is it?" I asked, since the clock was behind me.

"Five."

"No wonder I'm still tired."

"You're off today. You can sleep. Tell me about the nightmare."

"I can't." How did I tell him what I didn't understand? And I didn't want to, anyway. The nightmares are like my journals. Sacred and for my knowledge and viewing only. "If I do I won't get any rest."

He didn't push me, like he usually does. He simply took my hand, pulled it between us, and covered it. "Then sleep," he said again, and this time I heard the familiar command in his voice.

I went to sleep. I suspect maybe both thought it was because he ordered me to, but later, we both realized the truth. He'd already lost his control over me. The next time I woke up, sunlight pierced my sleep-heavy eyes, and the bed was empty where he'd been. I was alone, just like I had been in the water... And distress I felt over "his" absence faded into a replay of the nightmare, the sensation of floating facedown in icy water making me shiver.

An overwhelming urge to go to my mother's grave washed over me. I had to go. Today. This morning. My chest tightened painfully and my guilt twisted in my gut. I hadn't been to see my mother in a year. I just... I don't like to think about her betrayal.

"Coffee?"

His voice startled me and I sat up, the blanket falling to my waist exposing my sleep shirt. He was in my doorway, shirtless, in only his boxers, and rippling with sculptured muscles. His gaze swept over me and I tugged the blanket to cover myself. That drew an arched brown from him. I'm sure it did. It's not like modesty has been at the forefront of our relationship.

Scratch that, and correction: our agreement. But he was in my home, and what I wanted from him had changed.

Okay, scratch that again. What I wanted hadn't changed; I'd wanted more than a contract from the beginning. I just wasn't wiling to settle for less anymore.

I arched a brow back at him. "You made coffee?"

"I make coffee at my place."

He did, but something about his doing it at mine didn't fit his Master image, though I can't say why.

He sauntered forward, muscles flexing, and he was the most delicious breakfast a girl could ask for. The mattress shifted as he joined me and offered me the cup. "I added your favorite creamer."

He did those things for me. Bought the creamer I liked. Stocked my favorite bubble bath. But then, Masters cared for their sub's needs, often in a quite sexy, sensational way. For us though, I felt more like a child and he was the parent. He would someday become a good father. This thought saddens me, knowing the fact that I won't be the mother of his children, since I'm only his sub and he.. well he doesn't believe in love..

I sip the hot beverage without taking my eyes off him. "Thank you," I murmured, wondering about the way he was silently studying me. He was giving off a weird vibe. Uneasiness? Was he nervous? No. Surely not. Not him.

We stared at each other and neither of us spoke, an indicator that we both knew we were at a crossroads. We frequently talked politics, art, and whatever else came to mind, but we didn't talk about us. About what we are, or could be, or would never be-and that was what was in the air. That was the crossroads. And yesterday.. It was so unlike him to ask me about my attraction to men.

"Come home," he said, breaking the silence.

"You mean go with you to your house."

"We live there together."

But he didn't call it my home. "This is my home. Your home is where I stay when our contract indicates I do so."

"This apartment is merely a backup-"

"No. This is my home and it's going to stay that way." I suddenly wanted to get away from him, but the hot coffee made a fast departure impossible. It also made covering my almost naked body impossible. And I wanted to be covered. "I'm going to go shower. Can you please let me have some privacy?"

A flicker of cold ice flashed in his eyes before he took the cup from me and set it on the table. Before I could blink, he'd stalked to my side of the bed, scooped me up, and was carrying me to the bathroom. He set me down, turned on the water, and then wrapped me in his strong arms. "You want to shower, you can shower with me."

He didn't give me time to think, discarding my clothing fast and dragging me behind the curtain. And damn it. I was weak. I did a whole lot more than shower with him. That man had me pressed against the tile wall and he was buried deep inside me before the water was even hot. The sex had been hot.

An hour later, dressed in jeans and a gallery T-shirt, with tall black boots, my dark hair brushed to a shiny mass, I was determined to be stronger. I walked into the living room to find him facing away from me on the couch, watching the news. He was so determined to stay with me that he'd grabbed his suitcase from his car and changed into clean clothes. I knew he was determined to do whatever he had to do to get me back to his proverbial castle where I'd be his submissive.

He twisted around, clearly sensing my presence.

"I need to run out for a while." I told him before he could speak.

"I'll go with you," he said, pushing to his feet to face me.

My lips parted in surprise at how far he was taking this. "It's nothing you'll enjoy."

He narrowed his eyes. "Is it important to you?"

"Yes."

"Then it's important to me, too."

I didn't take this as encouraging words to indicate he wanted more depth to our relationship. A Master made his submissive's needs top priority-some of them, anyway, I had learned. He was simply trying to figure out where he gained control again.

For an instant I considered telling him "no." but the need to go to my mother's grave was growing more insistent. If I let myself get into confrontation with him, my time to visit her could slip away from me. "Okay."

His eyes lit with victory. "I'll drive."

Of course he would. He hated the practical car I'd insisted on buying myself, when he'd wanted to buy me something fancy. Besides, even if I had a fancy car, the passenger seat just wasn't place for a Master.

The drive to the town of Colma on the northern end of the peninsula is a short ten miles. It's a quaint little place with only two thousand residents, and I'd like it, if not for the fact that it has seventeen cemeteries and about five million dead people. Even though I'm not superstitious, it bothers me. There is nothing that steals your control more than death, and death loves Colma.

"He" knew where Colma was when I told him our destination, and I was thankful he didn't ask questions. It fit our pattern. We don't talk about our families, aside from the basics like who was alive and who was dead. So he knew I was visiting my mother. Or her grave. My mother was no longer anywhere I could visit her.

He parked near the grave and I didn't wait on him to get out of the car. I tugged my jacket around me and started walking through the cold, breezy cemetery, feeling as if there was a concrete block strapped to each of my lungs, crushing them inside my chest cavity. He fell into step with me, and right then, seeing him as my Master and protector didn't seem all that bad.

When I got to the tombstone, a simple white square with my mother's name on it, I stood there, unable to stop the memories playing in my head.

"How could you not tell me?"

She'd straightened in her hospital bed. "How did your knowing help anything?"

"You thought letting me think that he simply didn't want me was better than letting me know who and what he was?"

"He was involved with dangerous things I didn't want you involved in. He still is."

"I want his name."

"No, Hinata. I will not die knowing he might drag you to the grave with me."

I squeezed my eyes shut, guilt assailing me. She'd been dying, and I'd confronted her with anger. But what was I to do? She's smoked and taken horrible care of herself. She was dying and leaving me, and still she wanted to deny me my only other family member? The bite of more memories, of her dying, of the casket, of the pain, overcame me. One after another, I relieved the moments that had left me alone in this word.

Another memory seemed to flash.

The heart monitor finally reaching it's destination. The end of her life. The start of my life without her. As she lay in that hospital bed, calm, arms to her sides, her dark hair in place, looking like she was in some deep sleep. It hurt. She was gone.

All I could remember was hearing myself scream for her, crying my heart out for her. Doctors arriving taking me out of the room. Making me let go of her hand, when I noticed I piece of crumbled paper in her left hand she'd been holding. Grabbing it in desperation for her reach, I read the paper as I was taken out of the room.

The paper had the name of my father, "Hiashi Haruno."

"Are you okay?" I blinked to realize I was on my knees and "he" was actually there with me.

How I had ended up on the ground? "Yes." I pushed to my feet and he helped me. "I'm okay. I'm done here."

"Is your father here, too? Do you want to visit him?"

I'd told him I didn't know my father, but "he" had not listened.

That hurt. It hurt badly, reminding me how alone I am. "He's not here," I bit out. And apparently my Master had never been "here," as in fully present in our relationship, either. I charged toward the car.

Once we were on the road, I thought of how bitter my mother was about men. How much I now think my father affected everything she was and everything she became. Maybe she's warning me from the grave that I am headed there, floating in the dark, miserable waters of my own creating. Or maybe it's just my mind using her as a tool to warn me of the same.

He drove us to some Oceanside café, and the instant he placed the car in park, I turned to face him. "I won't sign another contract. If you want to see me, ask me on a date."

He just sat there, unmoving as stone, his expression an emotionless mask, until finally, he said, "You know that isn't how I operate."

My stomach clenched and I faced forward. "Yes. I know."

More silence. More unbearable silence. "Why don't we go inside and talk about the contract?"

"No. I don't want to talk about it. I want to go home." I cut him a look. "To my apartment. My home."

His eyes narrowed; his jaw clenched. He looked like he might refuse, but he put the car in gear and backed away.

At my apartment, he walked me to my door. I turned to face him. "Thanks for... everything."

"I'm coming inside."

I shook my head. "I need to be alone." And it was the truth. It was time I learned how to embrace taking care of myself again.

"We can make the contract work."

I opened my door and stepped inside before facing him again. "I don't want to make it work."

He grabbed me and pulled me to him, kissing me with wild, sultry passion before setting me back from him. "This isn't over," he said, and turned and walked away.

I shut my door and leaned against it, hugging myself as I slid slowly to the floor. I had never wanted him to be right more than I did now.

I didn't want "us" to be over, and yet somehow, I found myself reaching down and sliding the delicate rose-shaped ring he'd given me from my finger. I could no longer be his unless he was truly mine. And he isn't. I'm not sure he ever will be.

I am back.
Finally, I am home.
Naruto called me, he told me to come back home.
Home with him. He said things would be different this time.
No more contracts. No more Master/sub relationship. Just us, together.
Alas, me and him.
Together.

Drowning. I was drowning in the cold ocean of San Francisco. Ava has let her jealousy get the best of her. I should have listened when she warned me about staying away from him. I should have, but I didn't. She wants me dead. And I fear of what she will do if she finds out I'm still alive.

Could it be? That all these nightmares I've had have been a warning for this moment? Have I been warned? Could it be that this was what my nightmares were about?

I can't stay here. I can't be here anymore. She might go ballistic again. I do not want to die by her doing. I need to leave.

Maybe one day.. Naruto and I will be together again. No. No. No. No, Hinata don't think like this. It will only get you killed. This could be the beginning for me. I need to leave far from here.

Hinata being dead will be better for everyone. My father doesn't even know of my existence. My mother is dead. Naruto has always wanted me as his submissive. And Ava.. She's killed me. And it should stay that way.

As of this moment, Hinata Hyuga is dead.

This is my new beginning.

I am a new person.

I'm sorry... Naruto.

As I look into the mirror of my new apartment in New York, I can't help but not recognize myself. I am different now, yet I am still the same person I was a week ago. I am still the woman who fell in love with her Master. I am still the woman who's mother died, who doesn't even know her father except for his name. I am still the woman who doesn't know how to be herself again. I am still the weak woman I was, but I will get stronger. I am not Hinata Hyuga, she's dead. I no longer have my dark locks. It's pale blonde now. I am thinner than I was a week ago. I feel more dead than alive. I don't breathe the same. I don't hope like I used to. I don't write on journals anymore. I am Shion. This is who I'll be for my sake, for his sake. There's no turning back.

I KNOW YOU HATE ME. I hate myself too and it's okay! ;)

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