Part 7 - Love Me Tender (by Elvis Presley)
She was learning. Slowly, but she was learning, and so was he. She was learning what to do, how to be a mother.
The wet nurse was still with them, the baby required so much attention; the two of them could not handle the child by themselves. But she was rising above her depression. She took Akane in her arms, breast-fed the growing infant, and watched in fascination as the child's tiny hand gripped her mother's finger.
Love me tender,
Love me sweet,
Never let me go.
He often sat with her, stroked his daughter's bright hair and wondered when the babe would open her eyes for them: all she ever did was eat and sleep. When would he get to see those midnight-blue eyes again?
He was always eager to leave his office, finishing his duties quickly, and get home to them, his two beautiful girls. To hold them both, kiss the forehead of one, and the lips of the other.
You have made my life complete,
And I love you so.
She was almost always waiting for him when the sky was dark and his Kazekage duties were at last over for the day, sitting in the window with their child in her arms, starlight dulling her golden hair to the pale yellow of aged parchment, weaving and looping over her shoulders, unbound.
He leaned on the doorframe, observing her with soft eyes. Then he strode across the room, shedding his robes as he moved, and was by her side, kissing her, embracing her, their child squished gently between their bodies.
He closed his eyes and exhaled. "I'm home."
She smiled softly, humming in the back of her throat. He lifted the babe from her arms, cradling the infant against his chest. Akane shifted, burbled a bit, and settled, her pink lips parting slightly.
He kissed his lover again, and she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders as they stood and put the child to bed.
Love me tender,
Love me true,
All my dreams fulfilled.
They stood above the cradle for a while, and watched their little one sleep. Him embracing her from behind, chin resting on her shoulder. He buried his nose in the junction of her shoulder and neck, dusting his lips over the mark that branded her as his mate.
She sighed in contentment. "Gaara,"
For, my darling, I love you,
And I always will.
She was still fragile, not yet fully recovered. She still cried easily, and her muscles had waned. She wasn't the warrior she once was, and he doubted she really would ever be her old self ever again.
So he held her thin waist delicately, kissed her tentatively, and gradually pulled her to their bed, his hands roaming her curvaceous body with feather-light touches.
Love me tender,
Love me long,
Take me to your heart.
She held her arms above her head as she sat on their comforter, a child waiting to be undressed. Her cheeks were flushed pink. Their clothes were coaxed from their bodies by his strong hands
He buried himself into her, his hands on her back, mouth on her neck. She was trembling ever so slightly. He held her, made love to her gently and sweetly.
For its there that I belong,
And we'll never part.
He could smell the sweat on her skin, the shampoo in her hair; hear her rapidly thumping heart. He consumed her mouth and they shared breath as if one entity. He massaged her palm with his hand, feeling the softening callouses, her ridged, short cut fingernails.
She could still see the ink staining his fingers, and feel the loose grains of sand on his scalp. She traced her fingertips over his back, smooth and flawless skin, squiggly, misshapen spine. She exhaled into his mouth. He inhaled her breath into his own lungs. He exhaled, and she breathed him in.
He whispered sweet something's into her ear when their kiss broke.
Love me tender,
Love me dear,
Tell me you are mine.
"Naru," he whispered.
Every muscle in her body tightened, her toes curling, fingers clenching in his hair. Then the tension was gone, and her body seemed to melt beneath him, releasing a long, breathy sigh.
He buried his face in her shoulder, his speedy breath slowing to a normal rate. Her hand moved, fingers stroking his scalp in a patient rhythm. He closed his eyes and allowed his body to relax beside her, one hand resting on her abdomen, ankles woven together. The sound of her heart in his ear was a lullaby. That rare thing called sleep was creeping into his limbs for the first time in a long time.
He lifted one arm, kissing her nose, and pulled the bed curtains closed. The moonlight vanished, leaving them in darkness. Above the covers, he held her nude form protectively against him, and succumbed to slumber.
I'll be yours through all the years,
'Till the end of time.
