This will be short and sweet, and it will get bitterer and bitterer as it goes on. All chapters will be 1-3 pages long. I know this because I've already finished this in, about, six hours today, but I'm debating as to when I should update.
Evanescent and Enduring is really my own challenge to myself. Since I've written so many NaruHina stories, I figured I should try a SasuHina. I hope I do them justice cause, really, I love Hinata with just about any guy. And, seriously, she deserves whoever the heck she wants! :)
Evanescent and Enduring
When they first met, he knew instantly that he was hers. Perhaps it was in the way she had shyly peaked out from behind her mother's robes, or how her porcelain face had peered up from under her doll-like bangs, or how her eyes had been so large and round and white and endless and endless and endless like the pale moon or a candle during a blackout… Or perhaps he was only five years old and did not yet understand how fanatic girls could be until he entered the Ninja Academy.
But regardless, he was hers the moment he laid eyes on her.
He stole a glance at her as they knelt by the koi pond, marvelling at the way her hair brushed against her cheek and how she had curled her knees into herself like something soft and warm. Back at the Uchiha Main House, their parents were discussing clan matters and, briefly, he told himself that he should be in there with them, with his brother, but he just couldn't tear himself away from this living porcelain figure.
She was so delicate, her bone structure frail and complexion pale, that she nearly glowed under the moon and the stars that night; her eyes shimmering silver in the reflection of the pool. He felt his throat catch when they flickered, ever so faintly, to meet his dark ones, and he quickly turned away, his face burning with the shame of getting caught. His brother would have never gotten caught. Then again, his brother would probably never have an interest in a girl anyway…
Slowly, very slowly, he reached his hand out for hers. He didn't know where his courage came from, or why he wanted to hold her hand, but when his fingers wrapped out her baby-soft ones, he felt his stomach flip upside down and a thrilling chill run up his spine. He found himself tightening his grip when she tried to tug out of it, and then after a few feeble attempts of trying to get out of his grasp, she finally relented and held her hand still.
He let his hair and the night hide his smile as he gingerly threaded his fingers through hers, a soft, shivering caress that left him dizzy and nearly incapacitated. In the silent of that night, of their first meeting, he would remember forever the pulse at her wrist beating against his own, a steady thump, thump, and how they slowly synced together into the same pace:
Fast and breathless.
She may not know it then, but he had known it the moment he had first caught sight of her.
He was hers.