His cool eyes. They swamp my vision and my mind, so that it's all that's left. So that he's all that's left. They steal the words from my mouth before they are spoken, leaving me open-mouthed.

"TenTen," He acknowledges. I shake my head to clear my thoughts, trying to subdue the blush on my cheeks.

"Neji," I greet him, looking at the ground to avoid the gaze that controls me, that torments me. The one I dream of in jealousy and lust.

He gently takes my chin in his icy grip, and tilts my head up so that I am gripped in his gaze again. I want to rip away from his grasp, to be away from his inescapable gaze, but I have longed for his touch too long, and my body stays frozen so as not to make a mistake and take away the touch too early. I mentally scold myself for my school girl thoughts I thought I had pushed away so as not to interfere as my duty as a shinobi.

His eyes search my face, and for a moment, I think I see frustration flash through them, but just as quickly as it came it is gone, and it leaves me with guilt for being so foolish as to thinking he has emotions.

"What are you thinking?" He asks softly.

"…" I think over his words. "I… Can't your eyes read it?"

"… I thought they could."

I escape from his gaze, but I am still painfully aware of his light touch on my arms, more of a guideline of where I should be than forcing me to be there. They are too gentle. It tricks my mind, and doesn't let me think rationally. It makes me think he truly cares about my wellbeing, when I know this isn't true. He only cares since my health is important on missions.

"What are you thinking?" He repeats, and the hand that is still resting on my chin tightens its grip, but does not force me to look up. I can almost feel the frustration coursing through him, though there is no visible sign.

"I…" I trail off again. I hate how he manipulates me; uses what I want against me so he can solve the simple mystery that stumps him. I don't want to let him have another victory, but I never want his touch to leave, the iciness of his skin that is there instead of warmth, his childish questions since he does not understand the human mind since he lacks the emotions to relate.

"I'm thinking…" I try again, and I can feel his curiosity and frustration peak.

Reluctantly, I meet his gaze, and try to hold my ground so I will not be sucked into his will through them. "I'm wondering what you're thinking."

He frowns at my answer, obviously unsatisfied. "And…?"

"There is no 'and'. You never feel, and when you do, you don't let anyone see. Why? What are you afraid of?"

He flinches, and I know I've hit it head on. "I'm not afraid of anything." He denies.

"You flinched, Neji."

He scowls, as though challenging me to push him further. Btu for once, his expression doesn't scare me. Underneath the glare in his usually unreadable eyes, I am able to see his real emotions. Pain, confusion, loss, fear… and hope.

"What have you lost?"

He flinches, and I can see the pain clearly flash through his beautiful eyes. I have to resist to not reaching and trying to comfort him with my touch.

"My father… died for the main branch's head." He reveals. "They were twins, and my father was born after, so he became part of the second branch."

I had always known that the Hyuuga family wasn't the pretty picture kind of place they pretended to be, but I didn't know it was like this. Hearing the painful truth about the cruel place he had grown up, I don't know how to feel about it. Suddenly, I am drowning in different emotions.

"My mother died giving birth to me." He continues, "And when I was young, I was selected to be Hinata-sama's Guardian. Because of that, I have a curse mark that allows the Main Branch to kill me at any time."

I gasp, unable to stifle the sound. I can immediately see regret flicker through his eyes, and know he wishes he had not told me this. He thinks I am too weak to handle it.

"I…" He starts unsure of what to say. He lacks emotions; he does not know how to comfort. But the simple thought that I can see that he wants to is enough.

I step forward and gingerly place my arms around him in a hug that barely graces the skin, since he is like a frightened animal towards human contact and emotions. He remains stock-still, and I know I have done something wrong, so I pull away, about to apologize for my rash behaviour.

Yet, when I pull away, I am not met with a disproving glare, instead, I am met with a soft gaze and subtly pink cheeks.