I love it. The staccato of the three simple syllables pronounced with such passion in my voice. HI-NA-TA. The longing sigh of the first, the soft caress of the second, and the hit with tongue of the third. Hinata. I have no idea how many times I have repeated your name, my beloved, at those dreamless nights, which were filled with my despairing whisper. HI-NA-TA. Three syllables of desire and pain torturing me. Hinata...
You do not know how mesmerising your name is. My mantra is sung at dawn. You have never realized it; neither noticed that the way I call you is far too intimate. Forbidden fruit I want to taste.
My love for you is an endless torment. How painful it is, I cannot even tell. How badly it hurts, when I look at my reflection in a mirror seeing those same white orbs... The very same haunting eyes I adore, but in my face. The very same paleness of our skins, the very same thin lips; it all reflects in the mirror reminding me the close relation between us. And everything is ruined by a green mark on my forehead.
I am your cousin slave. Nothing less and nothing more.
I keep an ambivalent affection for you treasuring it in my tormented mind, only showing the one side, the burning hatred you know too well.
But I must confess my sins, Hinata.
I fell for my goddess heart and soul hating her, wanting her fall.