Day 14
- Enjoying A Story Together -
December makes Uzumaki Naruto more strikingly handsome, if you ask Hinata. A dim sky pulls towards the sunshine in his hair, and unlike the bare trees and gray clouds, he makes the world colorful. He could walk down a street, and all would notice him: corn husk hair, summer skin, sapphire eyes; he is a splash of vibrant paint against a gray canvas. His grins look like angel wings. His hands are big and warm — she imagines, of course, for she has only daydreamed about holding those hands, feeling their palms kiss her cheeks as he holds her face to his.
Hyuuga Hinata is mad for Naruto. This is not a secret in Konoha.
But in December, when it becomes even more impossible to ignore him, Hinata somehow falls even more in love with him.
Her nineteenth birthday is coming up in a few weeks. Hanabi likes to say that turning nineteen is a bigger deal than turning eighteen. You're just freshly an adult at eighteen. There's still some kid in you, so it doesn't really count as your first birthday as an adult. Nineteen, she thinks, is when you've really and fully stepped into being in the adult world. The world will be on her shoulders. People will look at her and think, 'Wow, hasn't she grown.'
Hinata hopes Naruto will look at her like an adult should, like she's a woman, not just little, weird Hyuuga Hinata. Maybe he'll find her in the crowded streets of Konoha on a December night and see she contrasts, too; she's pearl eyes and ink rivers of hair and just as eye-catching as any other kunoichi. He'll stop and stare a bit, and she'll feel his eyes trail after her.
Soon, it will be her birthday.
Kiba and Shino want to celebrate with her. Kiba thinks about gifting her one of the pups from the latest litter they've had, and Hinata doubts the Hyuuga will enjoy chasing after the poor thing through the estate. Shino suggests they take her out to eat with Kurenai, and the idea sends a pleasant wave of tingles down her spine.
"We'll take ya anywhere," Kiba agrees, and if he had a tail like his comrade, it'd be wagging. "Say the name, and we'll get a spot reserved."
"Oh, that's nice," she says, a bit absentmindedly.
Shino waits a beat. "But?" he prompts.
"But, um . . . ." Oh, how should she say this? How can she say this without sounding horrible and ungrateful? It's not that she doesn't want to spend her birthday with them, per se. That's not the problem at all.
Kiba scratches at his jaw, careful enough with his claws to not produce blood. He looks her up and down like she's a painting or some weird piece of art or something, and his smile turns lopsided, growing bigger and bigger on his features.
"Oooh," he muses, "I know who our cute Hinata wants to spend her special day with."
"Quit it, Kiba. She's absolutely red." Shino's voice is just as teasing, however, and does not help the wave of embarrassment hitting her at present.
The tip of her nose is bright with embarrassment and the bite in the air. Kiba always tells her she looks the cutest when she's got a little color to her face, and he sort of gets the look of a grandmother when he pinches her nose.
"That guy's not goin' to take a hint," he tells her. "You'll have to be the one to ask him."
This, she knows. It'd been bugging her throughout November. She'd wake up before dawn to practice talking with the trees in the nearby forest. "Oh, will you be busy around Christmas?" she'd ask the shrubbery. "No? Then I must ask you to go on a date with me." Maybe it was silly, asking foliage on dates, but getting those words on her tongue helped.
"I will," she says with a determined nod. "I'll ask him."
Kiba snickers, tossing her bangs around, and Shino murmurs that they'll have to steal her away the day after her birthday.
...
Finding Naruto is not hard.
People get starry-eyed, nowadays, when they see him. Konoha is always searching for a new star to fawn over, and with . . . Sasuke gone, and with Naruto as strong as he is, it's only natural that he's their next target. Hinata merely has to follow the galaxies in people's eyes to find him waving off Sakura and Sai before he turns, gets a few steps in, and finds her approaching him.
It hasn't been . . . perfect between them since she confessed to him. He's friendly, and he's kind, but he avoids any discussion about the war when she's around, and he gets squirmish if anyone even hints about her crush on him. Not that he's aware of it, it's hard to ignore the gossip.
She'd like it if he didn't.
"Good evening, Naruto," she greets him, polite, smile inviting.
His grin is his normal kind, and she can relax a bit. "Hinata! Didn't expect to see you here." His head tips in question. "Need somethin'?"
The opening is there, and she'd be a fool to let it pass. Just imagine him as a bush. He's got twigs and leaves sticking out of him, and his handsome, curious face is hidden away. You can do this, Hinata. "Actually, yes. I came to ask you something."
Now he's getting nervous. Hinata doesn't need to look through the make-believe leaves to know that much. "Oh, yeah?"
"My birthday is coming up." Her breath pitches, and she hesitates. That sounded conceited, didn't it? Hopefully he didn't take it that way. "Do you — I mean, I'd like to spend it with you, if possible."
Now Naruto's the starry-eyed one, like he's just seen himself pass by, all golden and sparkling. The words settle into him, and they freeze up in his joints and make him look stiff and — nervous?
Somehow, his smile remains, though it's as stiff as the rest of him. "The 26th, yeah?" He knows it by heart? Her lungs stop working for a second. "I'm sorry, Hinata. I can't. I'll be on a mission."
Oh.
That growing confidence withers and dies in her throat, almost choking her. What should she do now? What should she say? She can't force him to miss the mission for her birthday. Sweat collects on the nape of her neck, despite the December chill, and Hinata tries to get a hold of her nerves and think of something to do, to say.
Naruto, however, beats her to it. "But, um, maybe tomorrow I can take you somewhere."
Huh?
Did she hear him right? Hinata analyzes the embarrassed look on his face, and she's sure she heard him right.
"Like a date?" That slips out before she can stop it, and Hinata thinks even her toes are blushing.
He smiles. "Yeah. Like a date."
Oh Kami.
A date.
Kami, a DATE!
...
She runs home — no! She sprints. At full speeds. She's a blur, a gust of wind that people hardly notice. When she gets to the Hyuuga estate, she finds Hanabi easily, and she stumbles into her room, practically falls onto her bed, and says, much too loudly, "He asked me on a date!"
"Naruto? No." Hanabi doesn't give her a chance to answer. "No way."
"Naruto did," Hinata confirms. "Tomorrow. He's — he's taking me out tomorrow."
"Oh, Gods!" Hanabi leaps from her desk, pacing around in circles like she's the one just asked out on a date — and by one of Konoha's biggest bachelors, no doubt! "Sister, I — oh, I knew good luck would come our way!" Her hands slap together. "I think the gods have blessed the Hyuuga today."
Hinata sits with her feet tucked close to her body. The excitement is still there, but a little bit of dread turns into a lot a bit of dread, and reality hits her like a train.
"Oh," she groans, "I'm going to ruin this."
"None of that!" Hanabi snaps. "Sister, we need to plan things. A woman's best weapon is her charm, and you absolutely must charm him, hear? Clothes, hair — do you understand? Not a wink of sleep until we know what you'll be looking like from the top of your head to the very end of your pinky toe!"
Hinata gives a weary look out the window. "It's already night, Hanabi."
"Not a wink!" she insists, taking Hinata's arm to drag her into her own room. "No complaining, either."
So Hinata sits there, listening intently to her sister go on about hairstyles and fashion sense. Hanabi glows when she gets to talk about these sorts of things, and Hinata can't help but be glad that she's having as much of a kick out of this as she is.
...
The next evening, Naruto is set to pick her up in a few minutes, and Hinata's sure she'll faint before he can set even a foot inside the estate. Hanabi, attentive as always, holds her arm in a death grip to keep her upright, and every so often, she mutters reminders to her as they watch the street for any signs of Naruto.
"Remember," she says, "be bold, but not too bold. Make him see you like him."
"I-I'm not sure about this," Hinata whispers.
"Don't back out now. Look, think about it like a date with Kiba."
Hinata's nose scrunches up. "Don't put that thought in my head, Hanabi."
"My bad. Er, then not Shino either, huh?" Her sister cackles at the sharp look Hinata sends her way. "Okay, imagine him as being someone you hardly know." Hardly know? Hinata knows so many people in Konoha: the baker and his wife, the teenagers down the street who pick apples at the orchard, the older couple who sell stamps on Saturdays. It will be hard to think of someone she doesn't know well, and as if realizing the predicament, Hanabi adds, "That Uchiha. Imagine he's Sasuke."
Sasuke. When she imagines him, all she can think of is a twelve-year-old boy. "That's impossible."
"Guess you're right," Hanabi murmurs. "No one wants to go on a date with a traitor."
Traitor tastes sour in her mouth, and Hinata's not sure what to say. Thankfully (or unthankfully), Naruto appears down the street, and her heart forgets all things Sasuke from that moment on.
...
He offers his arm when taking her into the BBQ place on the high-end of Konoha. Hinata's trapped between being flattered and feeling guilty that he felt the need to take her to such a lovely but expensive place. Famous as he might be, she doesn't want to come off as draining him of his money. But when his elbow juts her way and a nice shade of red bites at his ears, her worries are soothed, and she rests her hands on the crook of his arm and lets him ease her into the restaurant.
The booths are made of velvet, and there are tall, lit candles stood on the table between them.
Naruto is dashing. His button-up is freshly pressed, and his hair is groomed back stylishly. The waiter recognizes him, of course, and brings them a free appetizer before leaving them to look over their menus in peace. Naruto's giddy like a kid, enjoying the free food, and Hinata admires him from behind her menu, taken with how — how beautiful he is.
"Ah, hell!" He wipes his fabric napkin against his mouth. "I nearly ate it all without thinking. You can tell me off for things like that, Hinata. I don't mind!"
Her heart thrums so loudly that he's surely able to hear it. "I don't mind," she says. "You seem to enjoy it."
His grin is wide, but almost too wide, and he pushes the appetizer her way, insisting.
...
"I've only been here once," he explains, tapping his finger on her menu. "Kakashi got the prime rib, and I got to taste it. Really good! You'd like it, I think."
Happy to take his advice, she nods. "You came with Kakashi?"
"Him and Sakura. Sai couldn't come. Mission." A determined look makes his face look clean and fresh, adult. "I'd like to bring the whole team one day. Sai, Sakura — Sasuke."
That name keeps coming up today, somehow. Not that Hinata minds. She's not one of the many people in Konoha who hates the man's guts. "You think you'll be able to bring Sasuke here?" she asks.
"I'm damn sure I will!" He blinks, and his grin droops; not disappearing, just guilty. "Sorry. It's no good to cuss, huh?"
"It's fine," she says. "What about Sasuke?"
"Eh? Oh, well, I'm plannin' on talking him into coming back. He's out to discover himself right now, y'know? But, I mean, he's been alone all this time. I think, I dunno — if he's going to find himself, maybe he should find himself with people around. Friends, y'know? Us."
His care shines like fire in his eyes, and Hinata wonders if such a look will ever be directed her way. The waiter returns, takes their orders and their menus, refills their waters, and is off. Naruto's rubbing the back of his neck after a moment of silence.
"That's no good," he murmurs. "We're on a date, and I'm here talking about Sasuke."
Not once in the conversation did Hinata mind. In fact, she admires Naruto's ability to talk freely, to say what's on his mind. It's another trait she loves about him, and she'd never want it to change — especially not for her sake.
"Sasuke's important to you," she says, smiling reassuringly. "I think that's a beautiful thing."
Naruto stares at her like she's an adult for the first time, and it makes her mouth dry up.
If she could hear his heart, would it be racing?
"That's . . . really nice of you, Hinata."
Why does he sound hurt?
Before she can think too hard about it, he bulldozes into another conversation, and Hinata happily follows along.
...
When dinner is served, Naruto is ready to dig in. He practically shovels the food into his mouth, much to Hinata's amusement, and she stifles the yearn to reach over and clean his mouth with her napkin.
Second date, she tells herself. Second date.
Halfway through, he asks how hers tastes, and she cuts off a piece and drops it onto his plate for him to try. He looks shocked for a second, then perplexed; then it's that too-wide smile comes again, and he thanks her and tries it, agreeing that it's as good as it looks.
...
" — and then he dared her!"
"No," Hinata gasps. "Sai did?"
"Ayup!" Naruto rubs the underside of his nose, looking smug. "And Sakura was pissed, I'll tell ya! But she had to do it. Dares are dares, y'know. So she pulled out one of her swimsuits and found a place with really deep snow and jumped right in!"
A shiver of empathy racks her body, but Hinata laughs, nonetheless. "Oh, poor Sakura."
"She was sick with a cold for a week! Made Sai take care of her through most of it. I think that was just to punish him."
His entire body glitters with nostalgia, and he slaps his knee again and snorts and snickers like he's reliving the whole thing for the first time. Naruto is always beautiful — especially in December — but he's especially good-looking when he's like this.
"I wish I was there," she muses.
"So do I!" he exclaims. "You'll have to be there next time. Definitely. You'll be a hoot!" The mirth slides away like ice, and he's just a simple smile now. "Yeah, Hinata. You'll . . . next time, you'll . . . ."
Slowly, his words fall apart, the high turning low, that laughter turning quiet and somber.
The mood has changed dramatically, and she's not sure what could have caused it.
"I . . . ."
"Naruto? Is something wrong?"
Really, what caused this? She didn't say anything weird, did she? It was all fine just moments ago. What —
"I'm sorry."
Hinata pauses, surprised. "Wha—"
"I'm really sorry!" His hands plant themselves on the table, and his forehead smacks into the wood, causing the silverware to clatter.
Startled, Hinata's hand catches her heart. "I'm not following, Naruto."
Don't tell me . . .
Reluctantly, his blue eyes lift from the table, hardly meeting hers.
"I tried," he whispers. "I really, really tried."
"Tried?" Oh no.
"You're — it's not your fault." His hand slams against his chest. "It's me! Because — Hinata, you're totally cool. You laugh at everything and don't get angry, even if I say things I shouldn't say on a date. You're great. Really. I just — I . . ."
Don't say it, she begs. Please, don't say it.
"I just — I can't." There's no smile. Not even a fake one. "I can't, Hinata."
Her heart stops.
It doesn't start back up. It has quit beating, and nothing she does will make it go again.
Naruto becomes more and more worried as the silence stretches out. She . . . should say something, but she's not sure what.
"You're really great," he mumbles pathetically. "You're something special. I'm the one who's no good —"
"Naruto." She bites his name out. If she doesn't, she's scared it will tumble into a sob. "Don't do that."
He settles back in his booth, rubbing his palms together, then pulls out his wallet and drops enough money to cover for the whole bill.
"I'm sorry," he says, stands, tries to think of something else, something that will ease her, something that will make the hurt go away — but it's there, and it's eating her apart, and all she can do is smile and pretend to understand. There's nothing more he can say, so Naruto leaves.
For a moment, Hinata sits there. She feels the velvet under her palms, the smooth surface of the table. She looks at the window that was once fogged with his laughs.
Why?
Why did he bring her here?
Why did he have to get her hopes up?
Was he actually laughing at her, having properly fooled her?
The waiter comes to pick up the tab. When he asks where her boyfriend went, she just smiles, finds the will in her legs to stand, and leaves, as well.
...
She walks home alone, through cold and dark.
Hanabi is waiting for her by the Hyuuga gate, decked out in her pink mittens and yellow coat. When she spots her, she bounces halfway to her, and Hinata runs the rest of the way to meet her in the middle.
"How was it? How did it go? Did he kiss you?" Hanabi looks around expectantly. "Huh? He didn't walk you home? Lousy idiot. Next time, I'll beat his ass —"
"There —" She can't stop it. The tears are already out, and her words burst out in a fury of sobs. "There won't be a next time!"
Hinata bends over, and Hanabi catches her shoulders, panicked. They sit in the middle of the road together, shivering.
Hanabi tries her hardest to wipe her tears. "I'm sorry," she says. "I should have prayed better. I'm sorry, Sister."
Hinata can't even find the will to laugh. She'd like to; she'd like to reassure Hanabi that this is not her fault at all, but she can't.
"Don't think about him," Hanabi mutters. "He's not worth it, okay? You deserve someone who will cherish you. O-Okay?"
That's impossible, Hinata's sure.
Cherish her? Who would?
If Naruto, who cherishes everyone, can't — then who would?
...
A few months later, she runs to Suna to avoid the depressing answer to that question. There, she meets Kankuro, and he sweeps her off her feet, makes her feel special —
But he doesn't love her, either.
It's the same thing. The same cycle.
Naruto, Kankuro.
She doesn't learn her lesson after those two, and it breaks her apart, and she comes back to Konoha, still with the same, depressing answer.
Who would cherish her?
No one.
Why would they?
Who would?
The answer has changed.
Sasuke would, and he does.
Her biggest fear had been falling for the same trick, the same spell, for a fourth time. Throughout these past ten months, Hinata's heedful efforts have successfully prevented her from being charmed by any man who may have his fun wooing her. There have been a few: jonin, nurses, shop owners. She doesn't take it to heart. Humans are flirty creatures. They snoop about here, realize she's unavailable, and move on to someone else with ease. She's replaceable, and Hinata knows that.
Somewhere deep inside her had been sure Uchiha Sasuke would do the same. He'd divulge in his desires until they were all dried up, and then he'd leave her. People do that. They have something they like, they put all their efforts and attention towards is, and once its charm and use is gone, they're throw it to the side; they lock the gates, and they don't let you back in, and you walk the three days back to Konoha wondering why are you not good enough to keep, even if only out of pity?
Hinata had thought Sasuke would be like them all, but he's not.
It's been a week since he's confessed to her, and every day, he makes the effort to see her, to talk to her, to spend time with her. He's patiently kind when her nervousness gets the best of her, and he doesn't push for her to do anything but be around him every now and then. He even divulges in her silly books and lists.
Sometimes, she tells herself a week is a short amount of time, and that he'll get tired of her soon.
Sometimes, those kinds of thoughts still win, and the guilt in her wavering trust in him makes her feel unworthy.
This is something she wants to change.
Hinata wants to change.
...
After a sparring match that took up most of the afternoon, Hinata calculates the moods of her teammates, wipes sweat and mess off of her face, and admits, out of the blue, "I want to do something for Sasuke."
Their reactions are totally the opposite, which is common between these two. Shino looks a tad curious and a tad pleased, while Kiba, pulling away from Akamaru's side, looks overexaggeratedly disgusted.
"I don't want to hear this."
Her heart cracks. "B-But —"
"Ignore him," Shino sighs, then turns his attention to Kiba. "Get your mind out of the gutter."
Oh. Oh. She's not sure if color is draining into her face or out of her face, but it's definitely draining. "N-Not like that," she confirms. "I just want to do something, um, nice for him."
Relieved and slightly ashamed, Kiba nods along to her words. "Sure. Okay, yeah. Any ideas?"
"I think her mentioning implies a lack of ideas," Shino monotones.
"Hey. I ain't here to assume —"
"But you just did."
"Get him a map!"
Both Hinata and Shino share an astonished look. "A map?" she repeats.
Kiba nods along like he's just figured out the equation to gravity. "Whenever I see him, he always looks lost. Rushin' around the village, searching for Kami-knows-what! I'd say a map will do him good." His thumb scratches the tip of his nose as another idea hits him. "Or you could take him fishing!"
"Fishing," Shino drones.
"Nothing like sayin' You're my everything with dinner caught and ready to be prepared!"
The flexing hand at Shino's side tells Hinata he'd like nothing more than to smack those 'bright ideas' out of Kiba's skull, but he refrains. "I'd suggest coming up with something that tells him that you want him to stick around," he says. "He's always chasing you around. Perhaps it's your turn."
That time at the gate, when he'd quite literally chased after her, springs to mind. It had left her and Kiba so flabbergasted, but Shino seemed perfectly calm, as if he — as if he knew —
"Back then," she says, "you knew how Sasuke felt for me."
Kiba scratches Akamaru's back, stops, thinks, and gapes along with her. "Huh? Ya mean that time during that mission?"
They gather together, huddled, ready to leave the training grounds. Akamaru's tail thumps against her right ankle, and he pants through the hot air, ready for a drink of water and a quick nap in the shade. But they take a moment, leveling everything out between each other, making sense of the gaps in their knowledge.
"I've known for a while," Shino confirms, "because he's liked you for a while, Hinata. Are you aware of that?"
The cool touch of a bottle of lemon water kisses her forehead, and Hinata nods. "Yes."
"If I'm being honest, I'd almost believed he had given up on you." And it's understandable as to why. When both he and Hinata returned to Konoha, for the majority of those first eight to nine months, they'd hardly talked to each other. It was nothing but small greetings and grunts of acknowledgment. "But that time at the gate changed my mind, and I've had a good feeling about him."
Hinata knows she can believe Shino's intuition. It's saved them many times, and it has always been calculated and considerate. If he thinks Sasuke's right, then she's happy to believe him.
"He's good," he tells her, smiling. "You don't have to worry about him. Show him you trust him."
...
They part soon after, and before stopping at her house, Hinata goes to the key shop down the road with a thrill in her pulse.
...
Sasuke stops by that night for dinner, and when food is put away and dishes are kept in the running dishwasher, he makes his way to his spot in the living room. He's come over enough times to claim that cream armchair that just barely fits his taller, bigger figure, and even when he's not around, Hinata finds herself leaving it alone, thinking it solely as 'Sasuke's Spot'.
Silly. She knows it is, but she can't help it.
When she returns from her room after dressing into more comfortable clothes, she finds the line of his arm peeking out from the back of the chair, his elbow relaxed on the rolling armrest with his arm at an angle so that it turns towards his lap, where a book lies. It's the fourth one she had let him borrow. He really had been telling the truth when he said he'd read them all, and Hinata makes a note to herself that she'll have to give him more once he's done with this one.
Glancing over his shoulder, reading the first lines of the page he's on, Hinata finds out where he is in the story.
"They're about to find the monster," she muses.
He huffs, shoulders jumping slightly. "Spoilers."
"This is my favorite part."
His eyes fall steady on a paragraph, then lift with the turn of his chin to look at her. "Want to join me?"
"You mean read with you?" She wouldn't mind at all, but how in the world would that make that work out? The chair can barely hold Sasuke, let alone another person.
Based on how his gaze stays on her, he's already got an idea; and with how that mouth of his slowly turns into a smirk, it's a good one, too.
"Here." He pats his knee. "Sit with me."
The correct term would be 'sit on me', and Hinata feels that draining of color, only she knows this time it's flooding across her face, coloring her in like a coloring book.
Sitting 'with' Sasuke sounds like the start of a disaster that will end in embarrassment, but Hinata is not quick to reject the offer. Aside from a little embarrassment, what could honestly go wrong? She told herself she'd be the one chasing tonight, and this was a way for her to do so.
She swallows, fits her hands together, and rounds the chair. Sasuke looks up at her, a bit stunned, sure she wouldn't take the offer. Does he really not want to? But before that worry can eat at her nerves, he pulls his arms back, giving her room, and tries to hide the rising heat on his face with the turn of his head. Hinata, holding her breath, suddenly unabashedly scared that she'd be too heavy, sits more so on the armrest with her legs on top of his. Her body feels so hot that she's surprised she hasn't combusted yet. It's only when his hand touches her back, moving her onto his lap, that a dizzying wave makes her sway, and she feels the familiar tingles of a fainting spell.
Don't you dare, Hinata! she cries to herself. If you faint now, you'll never forgive yourself.
Sasuke's too still beneath her, and that only breaks with the slow turn of his arm, offering one end of the book for her to hold between the two of them. If she leans back just several centimeters back, her back will be up against his chest, and his mouth will be close to her neck, and —
And she shouldn't be thinking about his mouth right now.
She helps him find the page where he left off like it's the most natural thing in the world, and somehow, despite the circumstances, they read together.
...
It's awkward.
It's awkward, and it's strange, but she doesn't hate it.
And based on how Sasuke every so often leans a tad more forward to be closer to her, he doesn't hate it, either.
...
"There he is," she muses.
Sasuke, three paragraphs behind, purses his lips. "Slow down. I haven't read this twenty times like you have."
"Eighteen," she corrects.
"Oh, of course. Eighteen."
She laughs, then stays quiet, patiently waiting for him to catch up with her. Sometimes it's hard to focus on sentences when she feels his warm breath fan over her shoulder, and she wonders if he does that on purpose for the sake of distracting her.
They've fallen into routine in the twenty-five minutes they've been reading together. She finishes first and waits at the end of the page, and when he's ready, his thumb lifts, and she flips to the next page, pressing it under her own thumb before reading on. It doesn't require words, which was great for the first awkward minutes; now they're a little more comfortable, and conversation slowly rises between them again.
When he's at the end with her, his thumb lifts, and she turns to the final page of the chapter. She already knows well how it ends, but she reads it anyway, as if the words would have changed in the time between now and the last time she's reread the whole book. She can feel Sasuke's shock at the reveal of the monster, and she bites a smile.
"Good?"
"Not done," he tells her.
Her eyes lift away from the page, sliding along the dim living room with only the lamp light brightening parts of it. When her eyes find the glowing metal of the key on her coffee table, she remembers her trip to the store earlier, and another wave of nervousness hits her.
Right. She still has to give him that.
She waits for him to finish, and when he does, she closes the book with both hands and rests it on his free knee.
"I can see why you like it," he says.
"Sasuke." Oh dear. That sounds way too grave of a voice, and she's sure to fix it before continuing. "Actually, um, there's something I've been meaning to give you."
He's quietly curious, and she leans over, plucks the key off the coffee table, and is careful when leaning back as to not hurt him — or something.
"This is yours," she says, holding it out for him.
He doesn't take it. "What?"
"W-Well, I have a long mission coming up, you see, and I need someone to watch the house while I'm gone." That's a half-truth, but Hinata keeps going. "Water the plants, make sure everything is secure — things like that."
"And you want me to do it." He's quick to catch on.
She nods, keeping her gaze forward, not sure she'd be able to face him at all tonight. "And then . . . after that, you can keep it. It's an extra. I got it made today so that you can . . . use it whenever." He's still again, and Hinata feels she must clarify to really get her point across. "Because I trust you."
Suddenly, his arm is around her, pulling her back so she can feel the lift and fall of his chets between her shoulder blades. His face is buried in her shoulder, warm, and she can feel his bangs tickling the bare skin.
"I love you," he murmurs.
Oh gods. Her heart feels like it could run away. With the angle, she can't see him, so all she can do is rest her hands against the one around her, exploring the mountains of his knuckles. She can feel the bridge of his nose pressed into that spot between neck and shoulder. His breaths are light, at first, then turn a little rougher and a little quicker. She thinks she can feel his pulse, or it might be hers, or it might be both of theirs together, drumming.
...
She feels teeth.
Maybe she's making it up, but she's sure, for a moment, she felt teeth. There, on her neck, just slightly above her shoulder . . .
There it is again. It's just a graze, but it's harder than lips, and it's tangible, unlike his heightening exhales.
Is Sasuke . . . ?
What is he doing?
He's not biting. Not really. It's just the draw of teeth against skin — her skin — and then it's his mouth over that same patch of skin, as if he's hurt her and he's kissing it better.
K-Kissing?
Is he kissing her?
Wait.
Wait, wait.
One of her hands grips the armrest, and the other grabs the other — until she feels him shift, and then she realizes it's his leg, her thumb pressed into his knee.
"Oh!" she squeaks. "I'm sorry —"
"Hinata."
He's . . . never said her name like that before, like he's starving, or he's dying, or something — but not the bad kind of dying. She doesn't think there's a good kind of dying, necessarily; but if there was, that's what Sasuke sounds like. Her nerves are sparking, hopping down her arms, making the little hairs stand.
This — hasn't happened before.
He's kissing her neck. That's what he's doing, right? It's soft, and it's gentle — but it's also hot and dangerous, and she feels dizzy again. Her back rests further against him, and that's when she feels it.
Feels him.
"Sas . . . uke?" Unconsciously, she rocks back, and he groans, spreading his fingers out over her stomach, pushing her even further into him.
That —
Doesn't that mean he's turned on? Hinata's not the most knowledgeable ninja in this area, but she's sure about that, and she —
Well, she is nervous, and she's a little scared, but more than anything, she thinks she's turned on, too. Something is flooding inside her, buzzing, and her legs press together like it's instinct. The muscles in his hand flex, slide, and touch the side of her thigh. Those fingers rub into her knee, almost mocking her own hand, and she — she feels good.
Hinata doesn't think she's ever felt so wanted. Not for a long time.
Sasuke makes it clear and obvious. His mouth traces the line of her neck, his hand gently touches her bare thigh, and whenever she (unconsciously or not) leans into him, his moan rolls in her ears, through her mind, sending waves and lightning and tremors through her body.
The book falls, landing on the floor.
Hinata turns her upper body, forcing him to detach his mouth from her neck. He's searching her face, but she doesn't let him worry too much.
She kisses him.
...
Kissing Sasuke is like kissing fire. He burns her, but in a good way, and he makes her burn for him.
His hand meets her jaw, bringing her in, and his mouth is quick and hasty, desperate, never leaving hers. They barely have time to breathe. She gets lightheaded, and he's panting between the short breaks he allows between kisses before diving back in.
He's still hard.
Not that she was . . . expecting him to stop being so. It's just that with the new angle, it's even more obvious, and her desire is getting pretty obvious, too.
In the back of her head, she worries how far this will go.
It's not something she has to worry about for long.
His head snaps back, a hiss slithering through his teeth, and his jaw flexes in strain. First, she worries if she hurt him, and she tries to stay as still as possible to prevent any more harm. Then, after activating her byakugan and seeing the angry levels of chakra pulsing at his missing arm, she understands, and her hands glow with soothing chakra that she presses into the points in his arm. He stiffens, then gasps, then relaxes as her chakra fuses with his.
"Thank you," he groans. "That hurt like hell."
She waits until she's satisfied with his channels, and then she pulls away.
Reality sits between them.
Her neck is still burning; so is her stomach, her thighs.
The fog of desire has left his gaze, and he's looking at her like he's just realized what he's done.
"I'm sorry."
Oh no.
That sounds too much like Naruto apology before he left her at the restaurant, ashamed, dealing with the looks of people as she escaped into the winter night without a companion to accompany her.
Is that all it took? A quick make-out session, and he's done with her?
Is that really all she's worth?
"I should have thanked you first," he murmurs.
"What?"
"For the key." It's somewhere out of sight, probably on the floor with the book. "For trusting me. Thank you."
Oh. Relief is so painful that she has to look at the ceiling for a second to keep the tears from nipping at her eyes.
"It made me happy," he confesses. "Really happy." His hand rests on her hip, guiding her to lift off of him. It's not pushy, and it's not disgusted. From the look on his face, he seems perfectly content with having her on his lap for the rest of the night; but the question of how far reflects in his gaze, and Hinata understands and lifts to a stand. "Maybe even too happy."
Silly.
Somehow, she feels like they're both being silly, and she leans down to kiss his nose.
"I'm happy, too," she tells him. "Really happy. Perhaps even too happy."
Sasuke looks like he'd want nothing more than to drag her back down onto him. He doesn't, but it's the thought that counts, and Hinata doesn't think she'd mind if he did.