34

Aline was looking out the window, hazy brown eyes out of focus. She stretched her body as far as it would go, it had been two weeks since her last close encounter to death, which all things considered wasn't half bad for a ninja.

Deidara wasn't home, which was no surprise, but it was a fact that made the rest of the evening boring, hours dragged whenever he wasn't around. She made her way to the kitchen with the lazy walk of a satisfied woman. She slumped into one of the stools.

The headquarters was a pretty peaceful place, that is when crazy murderers weren't trying to kill each other, but it was Sunday, and as far as she knew there wouldn't be anyone all day. She let her head fall on the counter and started sulking for being the only one home, normally this wouldn't upset her, alone time was always good in her book, but it also meant her mind was free to wander.

Deidara had been sort of vacant lately, nothing had changed, but she could feel the change coming. When they were together he was the loud, witty, artistic ninja she knew well and loved, making as much use of that sexy smirk of his as he could, for her view and pleasure. But then he'd be gone, face screwed up in concentration, if perfect could be screwed up that is. Something was bothering him, and he wouldn't say what it was. That alone was upsetting, she wasn't used to him being silent, it wasn't like him and this made her edgy.

Someone came in, but this wasn't what startled her, it was a presence she was familiar with. She leaped down from the stool, not really feeling like being social for the moment. The missin-nin was going to her room when something caught her arm. She looked up to find a pair of red eyes staring back at her.

"Hey" she said, cutting free from his grip. What was it with him?

This couldn't go on.

It was a few hours past midnight, but she was used to bad sleeping habits, they fit her well, when her artist was around. But he was gone again, and she didn't know when he'd be back.

She sprawled across the bed, wishing hours ticked faster, wishing the sun would come out, wishing she could hold his hand and stare at the sun, its beautiful colors intoxicating their senses…

It was a weird dream, surreal as most dreams are but that wasn't was strange, it was black and white, shades of red here and there, but she always dreamt in color. She was standing there, motionless, a deep voice made her look up. It wasn't the voice she hoped her dreams would bring her.

"Come here"

She hesitated, as far as dreams went this felt rather real, another dimension, but a tangible one, he waited. Slowly she made her way to the man, it was weird how her subconscious mind could store the exact same look Itachi had given her that morning. Slightly desperate but controlled at the same time. Of course king of composure wouldn't insult his impeccable mask, not even in a dream. She stepped closer.

"You're beautiful"

Long, pale fingers touched her cheek, and words failed her, his touch felt much too real, too consistent, but there wasn't any color, just grays, blacks and whites, and the tinted red irises she knew only too well. He leaned in, placing his face just an inch away from hers, towering over her but his eyes held no questions, he kissed her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, once, twice, saving her lips for last. Something crawled in her stomach, worry and disgust, guilt. She kissed him back but only for a second, then his hand freed her face and found its way to the hollow of her back.

She shook her head, and the violent movement woke her up, it was just half past five. Her throat felt sore, and she still could feel his lips on hers, making her stomach twirl. It had just been a dream, but that wasn't comforting, and she still felt rather uneasy.

Maybe her subconscious wasn't even bothering with surrealism anymore, why had she kissed him back? Maybe she secretly wanted to kiss him, no, that wasn't quite right though. Itachi and her had always had a weird relationship, they respected each other, he actually seemed to even care for her, and maybe even she could feel some sort of admiration towards him, not romantic in any way of course, not that he wasn't handsome, because he was… but she did not desire him. He didn't make her feel ten feet tall, or her heart burst into fire, or her body feel light and in flames all in one. No, there had to be a different reason. However she had to admit the kiss wasn't at all repulsive, it felt utterly wrong, yes, but somehow she still managed to enjoy it?… not that she'd ever admit it of course.

Truly awake now she went back to the kitchen to help herself a glass of water, mentally kicking herself for overthinking things she couldn't control, but as she drank and her eyes adjusted to the lack of light she realized she wasn't alone.

Itachi was there, standing in the middle of the darkness, and a strong sense of déjà vu took over. It was as the air had been sucked out of her lungs, he was… smiling?

"Bad dreams?" he asked, as if that was a private joke, her eyes opened wide, anxious, embarrassed and sick.

"It was real" she said, to herself more than anything.

"All the same" Itachi replied, his voice monotonous, as if they were discussing the weather, for some reason, this bothered her to no end.
"How dare you?!" she felt sick, but mostly embarrassed, it was worse than if he had ran into her without clothes, which he had, living with 10 men left little to the imagination, specially Hidan who couldn't seem to wear a shirt for his life, but her dreams? That sick, twisted private space in her mind, truly private, anger and shame ran fast through her blood.
"You ruined my life"

His voice had that matter-or-fact edge to it, and this was an answer she wasn't expecting. What was that supposed to mean? Stupid weasel jerk with his fcking Sharingan, and petty family drama, she felt truly nauseous now. She let anger replace confusion and shot him a murderous glare.
"You'll get over it"

And with that she stormed away.