It was strange to wake up next to Gaara. There was no sweet, sleepy 'good morning', no small smile lit by the light of the morning sun. They simply woke up and went about their day, as though they hadn't spent the night together, as though nothing had happened.
And really, nothing had happened. So they slept together at night – nothing ever happened. They got into bed and went to sleep, and woke up in the morning, just as they had for years past, only in bed with another.
Sakura wondered if it meant anything to Gaara. For every night her heart pounded painfully in her chest when they went to bed, and every morning she was still surprised to see his face first thing when she woke up. Did he feel anything, she wondered?
They didn't even get along much better than before. They still had their ridiculous spats. Sakura found she was never really angry at him though, and she got the feeling he had never been truly angry with her. It was a game, a long running joke between the two of them, their disagreements. If there was anything they did agree on, one of them might have to change their opinion just to disagree.
One thing they had silently agreed on was the side of the bed they each slept on. When Gaara had first suggested they sleep together Sakura had imagined something sweet and innocent, perhaps spending the night with his arms about her shoulders, her face nestled against his chest. Instead they slept with their faces to the wall, away from each other. The bed was small, and their backs were pressed up against each other, so that she could feel his back rise and fall as he breathed, but there was no real intimacy in this act of sharing a bed.
What did he think? She wanted to know. She spent hours staring at him, trying to figure him out. What did he want from her? What did he expect to happen? She had no idea.
There was no way he felt the way she did. No way he wished for something more so much, so badly that it hurt some nights, as she lay awake, trying not to cry.
What was wrong with her?