35
Her hand reached out for what was still unseen. Sun-tinted hair moved at her touch. She was awake. Her fingers locked into the carefully plated locks of hair, pushing his face down. Being unable to tell if this was a dream she decided to make the most from what she had. And the lips moving in synchrony with hers were good enough.
Soon enough she forgot about her lungs, breathing in the scent she missed so badly. Her fingers sank in his skin, pulling him closer. Like fire licking her body, tangible electricity plastered on his hands as he found her waist. Soon she was locked inside strong arms.
Her eyes opened, taking in the view displayed in front of her. His kuinochi, tearing apart what was left of her clothes. Her hands melting into his stone-shaped chest, carved out from the gods, her lips making its way down on it, stopping only to taste a particularly spot on it.
"If I had known what was waiting for me at home, hmm"
She lifted her body up to meet his eyes. His expression was soft, content, his lips curved into his cocky smile. He sat up with her in his arms and threw out what was left of her clothes. Aline broke his black shirt and the mesh over it in response.
"I happened to like that shirt, yeah"
"I happen to like you better without it"
He didn't argue back, instead he crashed his lips with hers and flipped her over so that he was on top. His left hand capture both of hers and pulled them above her head.
Night didn't hold enough hours to satisfy them.
This time she didn't fight the feeling that took over her senses whenever Deidara was near. Instead she embraced it, delusional or not when he held her like this the world didn't make much sense anymore. And right now, she felt that he wanted her, that was all she needed to breathe.
There was so much of him! His blonde hair down ticking her skin, every inch of his body, his hands. His lips, three pairs of lips on her body, knocking her out with every touch.
The world only made sense when he held her like this. Nothing felt more real. Nothing made her feel so alive. It was impossible to think such perfection even exist. Everything she ever wanted rolled up in one. Like he had been designed for her, and her alone.
It wasn't just the way his glorious body seemed to fit perfectly with hers, or how they could carry on a conversation without words. It was the way he made every little thing about the world feel like it was going to be alright. How his lips grew slightly apart and his eyes stared in awe every time he made something go bang! How he saw beauty in places one would normally forget to look, how the little things of life amused him, things no one else was capable of perceiving. How careful and dextrous his hands were while working on his masterpieces. How talented and gifted he was. How he was more than a magnificent artist.
He was a work of art himself. A masterpiece. An unfinished work of art.
And by some miracle he wanted her just as bad.