My Boss The Genius
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INTERLUDE THREE
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She had just stepped into the guest room when she realized her purse was hanging on a hook beside the front door. Sighing at her idiocy, Temari turned around to head back to the main room and fetch her bag. However, when Shikamaru darted around the corner, she panicked and hid behind the door, peeking through the open sliver. Somewhere in the back of Temari's mind, she noticed this whole spying thing was starting to become the norm.
"Ino!" Shikamaru called, his voice raised a tone louder, eyes narrowed as he swept into his room. "Don't touch my razor! Replacing it is troublesome as hell."
"Aw, but Shika," Ino whined, "Yours cuts so much smoother than mine!"
"Then get one for yourself," he told her, Temari inching closer to his open door to hear the better. She could still hear the shower running.
"I did," Ino replied, "but it's at home and I'm here so I have to use yours." The inflection in her tone was matter-of-fact, like he should have known that and she shouldn't have had to explain it to him because wasn't he a genius?
"Do you really have to?" he grouched. Ino sniffed indignantly.
"Yes, I do," she replied, "my legs feel like porcupines."
There was a pause, and then, "They felt fine last night."
Temari winced, her hand reaching up to clutch at her chest. She wondered why she bothered listening at all if it was only going to hurt. But there was a part of her that just needed to know. Whether that part was interested in the exact depth of Shikamaru's love for Ino or interested in the percent of the chance that he could love her instead, Temari didn't know. What she did know was that doing this, spying on them, was addictive. It was almost necessary.
Tuning out the beginning of Ino's rant that 'of course he thought they felt fine because his legs were so damn hairy like an ape and what was he, a neandrathal? Shave your damn legs!' Temari headed purposefully back into the main room, where Chouji looked up from surfing the net on a laptop.
"Did you call your brothers?" he asked her, all nice and polite-like (he really was very nice). Temari shook her head, grabbing her purse and shrugging almost sheepishly (almost, because Temari no Sabaku didn't do sheepish).
"Left my phone in my bag," she told him a bit curtly, regretting the slight edge to her voice when she answered him. It was unfair of her to let her frustration seep onto Chouji, who really didn't have anything to do with her breaking heart. He seemed fine, though, not taking any offense to her curtness. She figured he had a lot of practice dealing with that because of Ino.
Shikamaru walked out of the hallway, scowling with his shirt splashed with water droplets and his hair dripping a bit. Chouji grinned at his friend's appearance.
"She throw water at you?" he asked, but the question was more of a statement.
"It's my damn razor," Shikamaru growled, shuffling into the kitchen. Temari watched Chouji follow him, the sink soapy and full with water, ready to tackle the greasy plates. Temari left them to it, hugging her bag to her chest and walking back to the guest room, where she closed the door and sank against it, gripping her bag with white knuckles.
"Home, home, home, home, home," she chanted, gripping her cell with white knuckles and imagining her old home in the Australian desert.
No. That wasn't home anymore.
Two faces flashed, one with red hair, the other with brown.
That was home.
She flipped the cell phone open.