A/N: Oh another one of my guilty pleasure pairings. Review, review, review, review, review!
His art was beautiful.
This, whatever it was, simply was not.
Rough hands traced delicate curves as deft fingers ran through red hair. Soft whispers tickled his ear, enticing a moan from his lips. And then her mouth was on his, giving him a rush that he didn't think was possible in this body. She pulled away abruptly, a cheeky grin appearing on her face as she watched his eyes fire up. This infuriating little thing was teasing him.
It was almost disgusting, this foreign emotion filling his body. He had wanted to extinguish the flame that had grown inside him after their battle, and that was why he had gone to her in the first place. But after the first time, he hadn't stopped going. Everyone thought he was dead, which ensured that nobody would suspect anything. It was rather convenient really. Meetings in the middle of the night were not unusual, nights where suppressed feelings would come out to play…
"So I'll see you around," she said, getting up.
"You damn kunoichi," he growled. "Where do you think you're going?"
"I have missions to do tomorrow," she shrugged.
"I come all this way and this is how you repay me?" he glared at her, his eyes narrowing. "I swear, one day I'm going to kill you!"
He had a kunai to her throat now, but the pink haired girl was surprisingly calm. She turned to face him, planting a quick kiss on his cheek and gently moving his hand away from her neck.
"I don't think you want to do that," she winked.
"You brat," he snarled. "I can assure you that I would just love to do that."
"Then do it," she dared him.
Sighing, he dropped the kunai, watching it clatter to the floor.
"I didn't think so," she smiled triumphantly, walking out.
And he was left there to contemplate the beauty, or lack thereof, in their relationship.
His art was beautiful, those puppets that would last longer than his life.
But she was a cherry blossom, something that would bloom for a short time and then die.
He knew well that she would never be his puppet. She never could be his puppet.
But he didn't understand one thing.
Why did he still try to make her dance?
