Author's Notes: A late, short birthday present for my friend Loyce, who has helped me realize that NaruSaku is possible, isn't it? Happy birthday, dear!
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto and am not making any profit from this fan fiction.
Perhaps A Dancer
Haruno Sakura could have been a dancer. She moved with unconscious grace about the sterile room, adjusting, straightening, rosy hands fluttering over pristine white sheets and back to her clipboard or maybe to some wayward strands of light pink that needed to be brushed behind her ear.
Yes, a dancer. She certainly had the legs for it; long, quick, sturdy. The hands, maybe not, since they were often more destructive than they were gentle. Not that they couldn't be gentle, it simply wasn't her preference.
Blond lashes parted like curtains to reveal crystalline blue eyes. The mouth, which had been bleeding only hours ago, quirked at the sight of her.
"Jeez, Sakura-chan. If you wanted to get me in bed, I can think of a hundred better ways."
The two green gems went from surprised at his wakening to stern at his joke, though her lips twitched suspiciously – delectably. "Go back to sleep, Naruto." The prospect of touching her smooth skin was enough to motivate him to turn his hand over to grasp the one she had set upon the wrist not hooked up to an IV.
While a dozen dirty comebacks filtered through his pain med-hazed brain, Naruto obeyed because, frankly, his mouth was still sore and behaving increased his chances for a feel better kiss.
Maybe he would dream up a way to get her into bed later.
Of course, Naruto thought as he drifted off, the dancing he had in mind was not at all appropriate for public viewing. And honestly, he had no interest in letting anyone see.
He cherished their moments.