Apple Smirnoff

And then as quickly as it had been brought on, the wave of anger passes as he regains his control, bringing his calmer and gentler side to the forefront. His hunger was causing him to act irrational and wrong. He shakes his head slowly as he backs up and looks away, ashamed that he had let himself go like that. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that." He rubs his knuckles a few times, smoothing out the pained and broken skin as he gives her room.

Didn't mean to punch a fucking wall? She wonders.

"I'll leave you alone now."

“I should go,” she says quietly, pushing her body off the wall and walking quickly down the sidewalk. She's sure that if he wanted, he could force her to do anything. If him punching the wall that hard had only broken his skin a little. What the hell was going on? Maybe she was just really drunk. Maybe he did bleed but she just couldn't tell.

Wait. She was walking the wrong way. Shit.

She walks up to the building on her right, now a block down from the club, and leans against it, shivering at the cold air and feeling stupid that she hadn't brought a jacket. She wraps her arms around herself. “Dammit.”

A deep sigh penetrates the night air as he watches her shivering down the street. Despite what he was, there were worse things out there. He had done too many terrible things in the past to live with yet another sin. Her present situation was mostly his fault, after all, and the least he could do was try and help her out.

Why should he care, though? There were more important things he needed to attend to. For one, he could feel himself getting weaker with every passing hour. He needed to do something soon about his thirst or he'd go crazy. The earlier outburst was just the start and he knows it only gets worse. The best thing would be to walk away and leave her. She'll make it home. They always do.

But there's still just something about her that keeps him looking at her...

He strolls up beside her swiftly. Removing his soft black coat, he holds it out. "You're dressed for a club, not the freezing outside cold." He doesn't wait for her to take it, instead draping it over her small shoulders and then keeping his distance. "Do you need to borrow a phone or anything?" he asks quietly.

She starts at the voice and the offered coat. It looks warm and it is as he covers her shoulders, causing her to look up cautiously into blue eyes. She shakes her head quietly, tugging the coat around her and slipping her arms through. For him being in it all night, it wasn't that warm, and she had to wonder again why that was. “My apartment is a ways down that way,” she points in the direction she came from, blushing in embarrassment that she really had gone the wrong direction.

She was an idiot.

The coat is huge on her, and hangs to the middle of her thighs, but it's getting warmer the longer she spends time in it. And regardless of his anger from earlier and his hungry looks from earlier, she's drunk and wants to go home. “Can you just...walk me home? There's some bad people around this area, and I'd rather not get jumped in the state I'm in right now.” Even his company was welcome above the shady ones. And if he was nice enough to lend her his coat, then he must be a decent guy.

Or he really was pulling out all the stops.

A small smile creeps over his face as he notices her blush. He couldn't blame her for getting mixed up and going the wrong direction. His outburst probably scared the poor girl half to death. Hell, it scared him slightly. "Yeah, sure. Come on." His arm floats up and presses against her upper back, prodding her in the direction she had pointed as they shuffle down the sidewalk.

Small talk seems out of the question, so he keeps his mouth shut. His hand was removed from her back almost as quickly as it was placed there and he shoves it into his pocket, jingling his keys idly. Blue eyes watch her every now and then, making sure she's relaxed. Well, as relaxed as possible considering the circumstances.

He takes the time to look her over. Not in a lustful or hungry way, just an observing one. As he had noticed before, she's young and pretty. There's no telling what she was studying over at the college, if she was a student like he was thinking she was. Her pink hair no longer sticks to her skin with the cold air practically drying all the sweat from the dancing and her green eyes are slightly glazed over from the alcohol.

After a few minutes of walking, he drops back a few inches to let her lead. "I'll follow you since I have no clue where you're going."

The walk is quiet, and its silence unnerves her as well as the lack of touch. They had been touching all night, and then she's even more flustered that she could get like that over the lack of contact. It's the alcohol. Alcohol was the reason for everything. But the thing she was wondering was did he have as much as she had? She didn't know his reason for coming onto her so strongly.

There needs to be some noise. She has a feeling that something wants to come up and swallow her whole. “Is your hand, okay?” she says once she's leading a bit more, vision blurry, but enough where she can recognize where she's at slightly. She'd have to talk to her friends about the ditching thing. It didn't turn out well for her this time, even if the male was friendly.

She didn't even know his name. “So are you going to tell me your name, or am I gonna have to make one up for you?” Now that things are a bit less tense, she supposes she can be a little friendly. It makes up for the way her body was secretly craving for more touching, and even more than that, from him.

"Naruto," he murmurs quietly. His thumb brushes across his already healing knuckles at her other question. The force with which he hit the wall would've broken a normal person's hand, probably shattered every bone, but his would be fine in a matter of hours, and of course there wouldn't be any bruising whatsoever.

Naruto? Strange name. Well, he was strange himself so she supposed it works. It suits him, in all honesty. Such a unique name fits well for such a unique person. And his hand? Any normal person would've been in extreme pain, and he hardly flinched. She eyes his hand slightly. Not even a bruise. Was he some kind of superhero? Did superheroes go out to clubs?

"It's fine. It'll just be sore in the morning," he lies as he watches her. Things must be pretty fuzzy to her because she's barely walking straight and it could be just a matter of time until she runs into something. Then he'd really feel bad. Poor girl. Doesn't look like she can hold her alcohol very well. Of course, nobody really can, compared to him. 

He increases his pace again and hooks his arm in around her small shoulders to steady her and help her walk straight. He has no clue how close or far they are away from her apartment, but he might as well make sure she gets there in one piece. "What's your name, or should I just call you 'apple smirnoff'?

She grunts slightly with his tease. “Close,” she quips, leaning into his side when he wraps his arm around her as they continue walking. He's still cold, but it must be the weather. “It's Sakura,” she says after a moment, and tugs on her natural pink hair idly. People used to tease her and call her a 'freak of nature.' Actually, she was teased a lot in school.

"Sakura it is. Pretty name." A cherry blossom, eh? Suits her. That bright hair must've been the inspiration for her name. His arm pulls her closer subtlely so he can glance at the pink locks easier. It really was a rare hair color, especially to be natural. He could tell. Dye jobs smelled different. All he could smell off hers was some expensive type of shampoo and her natural scent. It was actually quite intoxicating.

Pretty name? She feels another flush on her cheeks and she ducks her head to hide it. “Um, thanks.” Alcohol, it's all alcohol. The alcohol was making her blush and stumble as her apartment drew closer, now only a few hundred feet down the sidewalk. She couldn't help stealing glances at his hand as her feet continued to move across the pavement. Only fifty feet now.

“I can check it once we get to my apartment,” she offers. “You hit it pretty hard.”

He glances at her warily from the corner of his eye. She sure was interested in his hand. Had she noticed something that she shouldn't have? His thumb brushes across his knuckles unconsciously. They were completely healed. It would be hard to explain something like that after hitting the wall as hard as he had. Furrowing his brow, he tries to think of a response to her offer, squeezing her shoulder gently to buy time

"Don't worry about it. My hand's fine. I'll just ice it later and take some aspirin or something."

“If you're sure,” she mumbles, slurring her words a little. Looks like the fresh air didn't fix her up any. Her inebriated self was still craving the touch that made her shudder, and the warm breath to make her dizzy. But it looked like he wasn't interested anymore. She didn't want to be easy and automatically be the one to grovel at his feet like she knew every other girl would. But she might've been wrong, maybe he was just messing around with her, though he had been chasing her all night.

Blue eyes lock with emerald again as she staggers up the stairs to the door. The old feeling of desire began to well up in him once more as he stared deeply at her. It wasn't the desire to feed, though. That sensation had been ignored to the point where it was a dull ache that he could control for the time being. Right now all he wanted was companionship. The feeling of someone warm next to him was much more preferable than returning home to his cold, dark apartment.

She fumbled with the keys in her pocket before tugging them out, climbing the stairs to her building. Well, this was it. She had offered him to come inside but he didn't want it. “Thanks again, for walking me home.”

"It was the least I could do," he quietly responds, feeling more than a little ashamed at his earlier behavior. It was just a facade he put up when he was out hunting as it seemed more females desired that type of male. He really was more than his outer appearance and fake personality suggested, and it seemed like an eternity since someone had known the real him. 

Actually, it might've been close to an eternity...

He notices her still wobbling from her drunkenness, so he steps closer in case she were to tumble down the stairs just trying to unlock the door. His hand reaches out and rests reassuringly on her closest arm to steady her. A genuine smile spreads across his lips as he chuckles softly.

She grumbles quietly, as she finally gets the right key in the door, the door swinging open and her stumbling along with it, catching herself by grabbing onto its edge. “Stupid door,” she mumbled before pulling her keys out of the hole. Who'd want to get with a klutz anyway? Probably not handsome blonds, and she doesn't blame him.

"You sure you're going to even be able to make it up to your room?"

“If I don't, I'll just pass out on the steps or something,” she shrugs and puts herself straight, but ends up leaning to the side. Everything is spinning and she's getting dizzy watching him move, even if in reality he was completely still. What was up with his hand anyway? Her aunt Tsunade was a wonderful doctor, and had taught her a few things. She knew that he should have his hand broken. Her hands tug the black coat tighter around her frame before she moves to climb the stairs.

One step and she's already stumbling. “Dammit,” she mutters, frustrated, before trying again. Two steps and another stumble. This was going to take a while.

Another quiet laugh spills out of his mouth as he watches her. It was actually fairly cute. She seemed to be quite stubborn about getting up those steps on her own. Come to think of it, she was stubborn all round. The majority of the evening had been spent with her resisting his advances, and he wonders just how much resistance she has left. It doesn't matter, though. The decent part of him was winning out over the one that wanted to take advantage of her.

"We can't have you passing out on the steps, miss Sakura," he chimes as he glides up behind her.

Grumbling at his laughter for her misfortune, she continues to attempt to climb the stairs, but the results are just as the others, a few steps forward before she slips. She looks over her shoulder blearily as she hears her name and then her eyes trail from his feet up to his face. Such a pretty face, with pretty blue eyes.

'Wait...what's he doing?' she wonders and eyes him through squinted lids.

In one swift motion he reaches down and lifts her up into his arms, one arm under her knees and the other cradling her upper back. She's light in his hands, almost a feather, but most people were to someone like him. The bare skin of her legs feels warm on his hand and he smiles at her. A gasp of surprise escapes her and arms wrap around his shoulders in reflex as he starts climbing.

The stairs are an easy task to him, even with her added weight, and he takes them two at a time as he ascends gracefully to the landing. There's an inner door barring the way to the rest of her apartment so he shifts her slightly in his arms, leaning her closer so he can turn the knob with the hand that had been resting on her back before. He can't help notice her neck being closer in the new position, and he leans in, nuzzling her gently and pressing his lips softly to the nape of her neck as he swings the door open and shuffles inside, turning so she doesn't bump her head.

She pouts slightly as he continues to carry her. The stairs weren't that hard to climb. After a while she's sure she would've gotten the hang of it, but she's glad she'll be in bed sooner. Her legs hurt a little from all that dancing and walking.

For a moment he loses himself as he stands slightly inside the apartment with her in his arms. He can't help the gentle caressing that the bridge of his nose is giving her delicate neck or the soft kisses his lips are peppering her with.

Eight shudders. He's back to nuzzling her neck, this time kissing the skin and making tingles dance along her skin. This time she doesn't stop him, instead tightening her grip around his shoulders and feeling her breath hitch with each press of his lips against her throat. It's why she's a little disoriented when he pulls away so suddenly, blinking at him slightly.

"S-sorry. Umm, where's your bedroom?" The question is innocent before it leaves his lips, but he groans inwardly after hearing it out loud.

“Down the hall, first door on the left,” she says breathlessly, chest heaving slightly and pointing a slightly shaking finger in the right direction.

The blonde nods slowly, watching her breathe deep and point shakily. He's not much better off. How long had it been since someone had such an effect on him? Decades? There's another longing to be with her for the evening and he begins to think that maybe she desires the same thing as she was more than willing to let him nuzzle her for a good five minutes.

He shuffles towards the hallway she had been pointing at, holding her tightly in his arms as he slides into the first door on the left. There's a lot of pink in the room and he notices a stack of textbooks in the corner, confirming his suspicions of her being a college student. He glides to her bedside and bends his knees to lay her gently on her mattress.

Leaning over to release her, he finds himself drifting to her neck once more. It was such a tempting prospect, but he resists. Instead, he plants another soft kiss on the flushed skin before inhaling deeply. Her scent surrounds him. It's everywhere in her apartment. If he concentrates hard enough he can tell each one apart. There's the smell of food in the kitchen, soap and shampoo in the bathroom, pencil lead and notebook paper coming from the corner...

But it's very difficult to concentrate because his face is drifting upwards to hers and he finds himself rubbing his cheek against hers softly as his eyes shut tightly. His arms unwrap from around her as one hand slips upward and caresses her other cheek with the knuckles that had slammed into the building earlier.

His lips hover centimeters from her ear as he whispers, "Anything else you need, miss Sakura?"

She's a little embarrassed her room is messy. Books on her floor, some drawers open with underwear hanging out. Shit. Well, she had no idea some stranger was going to be carrying her into her room. In fact, she didn't even think we would be going home tonight. Her friends had originally planned to stay in a nearby hotel in the morning, and Sakura would have offered her apartment if it wasn't so small. She could hardly fit all her things inside.

Why was she thinking about her friends when she had a guy currently kissing her neck softly. Anything else she might need? She might like to get rid of the ache that had been progressively growing more prominent the more time she spent with her new blond friend, or more than friend. He had never answered the question about what he wanted, but the hand that had answered instead is brushing her cheek. Uncontrollably, she turns her head and kisses the knuckles dusting across her soft skin.

His skin is cold, but soft underneath her lips and she kisses each knuckle while grabbing at his hand to keep it in place. She's glad she had the apartment all to herself for a few reasons. There isn't enough space for two people to be living here, and two she's allowed as much privacy as she wants. And she knows the alcohol is ruining her judgement right now, but she can't help but think he's earned something for taking care of her, making sure she got home and in bed safely. Even if she asked.

His face turns slightly at the sensation of her lips on his hand and he starts to kiss her cheek a few times. The soft skin is warm under his lips and he can tell even in the near darkness that's she's flushed red. Skillful lips trail off to the side and he starts to kiss at her ear. His face buries into the side of her pink hair, nuzzling her even more as he presses his hand closer into her kisses.

"I want you," he whispers quietly between kissing her ear and nuzzling the side of her head.

It's the truth, too. He can't remember the last time he wanted an individual so bad. What was it about her that drew him away from the mundane cycle of his life? Why did he want to give instead of taking? What made her so special that the desire of being intimate with her won out over the burning hunger that consumed him? It's confusing, and he doesn't want to think about it. All he wants to do is have her.

Shifting into a more comfortable position, he pulls himself up onto the bed beside her. His free hand trails down to her legs and he spreads them slightly, dipping his hand in between and caressing her inner thighs. The wandering hand grips some flesh of her thigh gently and he softly squeezes, kneading and running his fingers up and down the sensitive skin of her inner leg.

He's incredibly gentle for someone he was practically forcing himself on her at the club. But his gentleness and soft touches just makes her even more susceptible to whatever he wants to do with her, something she'd never allow from anyone else, especially a stranger she had just met. Again she tries to place the blame on the alcohol, but the more she does, the more she realizes she really does want him as he wants her. When was the last time she was touched, like he was willing to do to her?

Nine.

His breath is hot against her ear, but it's the barely there press of his lips on her ear that elicit the ninth shudder of the night, and she's sure there's more to come. Her lips continue to give attention to his hand, this time kissing down his wrist to his inner arm, where the skin is impossibly soft, and tickles her lips. Breath escapes her when his hand pushes her legs open, allowing him to dance and explore her thighs.

His hand slides through her hair as she releases it and begins to kiss his inner arm. A smile spreads across his lips and he kisses her temple a few times. He feels the unbearable need to kiss her lips and taste her, but the brush of her mouth against his arm feels to good to interrupt and he's sure he'll get his chance soon enough, so he occupies himself with his other work.

The bold hand between her legs slides even lower and he's glad she wore a skirt. Fingers trace soft lines against the warm, soft skin as he slips his hand under the folds of the denim fabric. Did she have a limit to what she was going to allow him to do? There was only one way to find out, so he brushes the tips of his fingers against the soft material of her panties before resting his palm in the most advantageous spot.

Blood is pumping quickly through her veins, and in the quiet of the room, the only sound the shuffling of clothes and lips familiarizing themselves with the other's body, she can hear her heart start to thunder in her chest.

A loud thumping noise catches his attention and he stops his kissing of the side of her head to listen to her heartbeat. He knows with each pounding beat that more and more of her blood is pushed through her veins. The thought makes him drop his head to her neck once more and he begins to kiss her there, mouth opening and closing and pulling at the skin every so often. His lips pull back and he leans closer before dragging his teeth across her soft skin slowly and gently.

Air is sucked in through her mouth when she feels something press between her legs. She manages to hold back the buck of her hips, but can't stop the small whimper that follows. The sound is needy and she's never heard anything quite like it coming from her mouth. Then, hints of teeth skim across her sensitive neck, making her blood and heart pump even faster.

Inner desires seem to be jockeying for top spot and alternating with each passing moment and the feeling is unsettling. He didn't like not knowing what he wanted the most. Quenching his thirst or satisfying his sexual urges... one or the other was going to win out sooner or later.

A pink tongue licks dry lips as the air seething into her mouth making her throat parched. She swallows a couple of times to knock the feeling back, but it comes back with each large inhale of breath. To keep her mind off the strange sensation, she starts to suck at the skin under her mouth, making sure to leave a spot red with each inhale. After a while of that, she takes a small nip at the skin before licking her way back up his arm, kissing his palm once she's reached her destination.

“I want you too,” she says breathlessly, looking up at him through her lashes, still brushing her lips across his palm. Her heart is going haywire beneath her chest, and she's almost frightened she's going to have a heart attack with its pace.

The look in her eyes and her breathless response lets him know he's going to get what he needed. His hand that she was currently kissing breaks free from her grasp and rests against her cheek, turning her head to face him as he leans in and kisses her deeply. A lustful sigh escapes from his mouth into hers as he tilts his head and puts more force and passion into the kiss, opening and closing his mouth and darting his tongue out to meet her lips every now and then.

A long 'hmm' leaves her, almost mimicking his from earlier in the club, when he crushes his mouth to hers. Her arms wrap around his neck before one threads through his extremely soft blonde hair, gripping the strands as she returns his mouth movements with her own, opening and closing her own mouth and panting slightly into the kiss as she forgets to breath a few times.

His hand begins a slow movement between her thighs, grinding up and down, back and forth under her skirt. Scooting closer to her, he rocks against her hip once with his crotch, letting her know how aroused she has made him and what she can look forward to later. His palm rotates in circles with each movement and he bunches up the fabric of her underwear with the increased friction.

She grunts softly into the kiss when his hand starts moving, once against stopping the bucking of her hips. If she seems too desperate, that might just put him off. She wasn't one to give in so willingly, and she thrills in the fact that he has to work for what he wants. However, at the feel of his tension against her hip, she knows her game won't go on long before he or she loses it.

A trail of saliva forms and breaks as he pulls away from the wet and noisy kiss. He licks at her mouth and then her chin before lowering his head to her chest. Turning his face, he rests his ear above her heart and closes his eyes, listening to the delicious sound of the blood pumping through her body. The hand which had been cradling her face also drops down and slips up her shirt, cupping at one of her breasts through her bra, fondling it through the fabric.

Gasping each time his tongue connects with her skin, she watches as his head rises and falls quickly with her chest. In a fit of desperation when he starts molding one of her modest mounds with his large hands, she sits up, pushing him back and starts unbuttoning his pants, tugging his zipper down quickly. But too quick, she cries out in pain as she cuts her finger on the teeth, hissing as she pulls her hand back to look at the blood oozing slowly out of the cut.