|Little White Lies
Author: Visions PM
One-shot. Future AU. If love could see through all those little white lies, it would be so much easier to sleep at night.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Romance - Words: 816 - Reviews: 61 - Favs: 83 - Follows: 7 - Published: 03-14-04 - Status: Complete - id: 1772992
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
My first Naruto fic. Please review. Constructive criticism welcome.
Little White Lies
She wasn't very pretty.
She would be so angry if she ever found it. But it was the truth. Her features were average. Her forehead was a tad too wide. Yet she lived up to her name. Her hair was a peculiar shade of pink, delicate, rare, one that was soft on the eyes.
She wasn't beautiful though, he thought.
But he continued to watch her as she sat at her desk, head leaned against hand as she scribbled leisurely on a piece of paper.
She had this thoughtful look of concentration, as if she was away in her own world and so full of intensity that it rendered her oblivious to her surroundings. It made her seem strong to him. It made her seem attractive. He realized the last part uncomfortably.
Her eyes, brilliantly clear, narrowed in struggle, and then her whole face relaxed into an expression of total and complete peace. She leaned backward, stretched, and a smile lit her face like the sun rising from a good night's rest.
His breath caught in his throat even when his mind said again, truthfully, She's not very pretty.
"Hell yeah!" she exclaimed in a voice that was gleefully proud, "Haruno, Sakura, YOU. KICK. ASS!!!"
A snort of amusement escaped him.
When she spotted him, he looked nonchalantly away, although his heart was pounding furiously in his chest.
"Just doing my paperwork for Kakashi-sensei," she explained, blushing so that her face matched her hair. She held up a sheet of paper full of neat handwriting, "There's only a little more to go."
"Aa," he said before commenting, "That's good."
There was a shy silence.
Then, hopefully, she asked, "Were you watching me?"
"No," he said. A lie. Her face fell, hurt. He was slightly irritated at her gullibility. It was so easy lying to her, especially when she believed every single word he said. She had to stop doing that.
"What are you doing up then?" she walked over. Her weary grin had faded to disappointment had given away to concern, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine…" He didn't tell her that he had panicked upon waking up without her beside him. It bothered him to discover that he could need someone so much. "I just needed some water."
"You look flushed." She pressed her hand against his forehead.
Her skin was cool, smooth, and tender. He let her hand remain for a second before moving it away gently with his own hand. His voice was harsher, "I'm fine. Don't worry."
"Well, you don't have a fever," she said dubiously, "But—"
"Then I'm glad," she said with a smile that was always different from the other ones she wore. It was … it was the one she reserved just for him.
He was still holding her hand. They both looked at it at the same time and then at each other. He felt something clench nervously in his stomach as she leaned toward him. Then her lips were against his and he was suddenly aware that despite all the little white lies he had given to her in the past, here was truth and it was genuine and sweet and wonderful and--
"You were watching me," she said quietly, pulling away, red color spreading across her cheeks. He licked his lips, wondering how she could be so timid after so bold a move. But there was a certain triumph in her words, faintly reminiscent of her outburst before. She was beginning to see through his little, white lies.
He scowled slightly at being confronted, but didn't bother to deny it.
"Good night," she called after him and he could sense the smirk on her face.
The room was dark and empty, just as he had left it. The blankets were cold now but he climbed into them anyway. Cold things never bothered him.
He fell asleep only to wake again hours later. Once again, he was sweating and panicking when he sensed she was not next to him. His mind raced irrationally, as his fury flared and his curse seal burned. Orochimaru. Itachi. Gaara--
There was a glass of water beside his table.
Sasuke paused his thoughts and then sighed, almost embarrassed for overreacting. She was still working. She was such a hard worker, sometimes. He loved her so much, sometimes.
He drank the water and walked over to the door, lingering so that the dim light bathed his feet even as the rest of him was covered in darkness. There were the slightest sounds of rustling paper.
"Damn you for all this work, Kakashi-sensei!"
Her voice wasn't so timid anymore. She had her little white lies, too, it seemed.
He smiled and went back to bed.