A small crack in perfection

A small crack in perfection
By eternalshiva

Disclaimer:
I do not own Naruto or any of the characters portrayed by Masashi Kishimoto, nor do I make any monies off this fanfiction.

AN– Hurray chapter nine! I know, I know; took me long enough! Even I was annoyed with my laziness. Plus, I was busy writing porn for Clones. Yes, there’s more stories incoming with bunnies multiplying. Enjoy :P

Thank you Juopunumies and Perpetual159 for the beta, I appreciate it. Jolly Green is still my beta but he needs time off due to personal problems, my thoughts are with you – hope to see you back in the game soon!

Chapter 9
Secrets of the Sun

Naruto flicked absent-mindedly through the radio stations, desperately wishing for the mix CD forgotten in his car. His gaze wandered from the dashboard to the bridge railing as his thoughts filtered out the unwelcomed silence. In a single week, Hinata had thrown his life into complete chaos.

Scratch that.

She’d managed to completely make him question his sanity.

He sighed and leaned back against the seat as Sakura turned off the ramp, giving up on his search for a good tune. He couldn’t decide if it was the combination of his turbulent feelings with his indecisiveness, or the general good-for-nothing sense of dread that was filling his stomach with a solid lump of lead.

He closed his eyes, listening to the radio host he’d picked to break the accusing silence blabber on about god-knows what. Blowing the air out of his cheeks in defeat, he felt irritated at the small pang of guilt eating at his conscience. ‘Would she even let me back into the house?’ he wondered.

Then, it suddenly occurred to him. There was a small important detail he had entirely missed; a loop hole in his mistake: he’d left the guest room in complete chaos. It helped to note that the ottoman was halfway out of the guest room door entirely in the way. He could personally attest that it was definitely too heavy for her to drag back to the living room alone.

‘Good,’ he thought, ‘I won’t need an excuse with things this miserable.’ He felt rejuvenated, even if things were looking excessively bleak for him.

Sakura suppressed the urge to reach over and pat him in comfort. He was completely miserable and her speech on how retarded he was didn’t help the situation. He straightened up a little and she saw the usual twinkle return to his eyes. She imagined he was talking himself back into his usual unrelenting fighting spirit. ‘What a relief.’ At least he had found the light at the end of this dreadful tunnel.

After all the progress Naruto had made with pulling her out of her shell, it was a terrible set-back to shove her away like that. She could understand why it had happened, surprising him in such a way mid-argument, but, still, it was a blow to the careful balance between her personas.

They both sighed at the same time. Naruto glanced at her and she smiled despite the bad mood hanging between them. She turned right onto a smaller alleyway; the pink beetle made its way up her drive way, slowed and pulled into her reserved parking spot.

She flicked her wrist to shut down the car and paused, the keys jingled momentarily as she folded her hands neatly on her lap. She ignored the press of the metal in her palm as she gave him an attentive glance; Naruto looked her way with a certain sadness she hadn’t seen in quite some time. He was really heart-broken over this; she felt an odd pang as her own heart squeezed in sympathy.

She gave him a reassuring smile that he didn’t have the courage to reciprocate. His pride was bruised, his confidence had faltered and darkness had lodged itself inside him, keeping him from being able to overcome this.

He grumbled loudly, startling her out of her thoughts a moment as she was in the process of escaping the cab of her car. She tried to catch his attention but he was too busy staring at the space between him and the building. He cringed and his toes wiggled in concern with the thought of the cold unforgiving asphalt meeting his tender naked flesh. He was positive it was mocking him, quietly laughing at his predicament.

“I could lend you my shoes.” She grinned, pointing to the back seat. He did a mental ‘hurray’ as he twisted himself around and reached for her gym bag. It didn’t occur to him for a second that he should have known better than to trust his former lover in helping him out.

“You can choose between baby pink or dark red,” she chimed. He groaned as he pulled out a pair of high heels. He dug around the bag, but he knew it was futile; there would be no slippers or sneakers there.

“I hate you,” she heard him say before she slammed her door shut. She shrugged and giggled as he seriously considered putting them on. He threw them back in the bag, knowing full well he’d never live it down. He wasn’t willing to put up with Sakura’s taunting and humiliation just to save his toes.

He squint his eyes, mumbled something miserable to befall his stupidity and quickly hopped out of the car, bee-lining for the entrance. The coldness of the ground bit at the thickened flesh mercilessly. He counted the steps to salvation, but when he reached the glass doorway, he was met with a solid ‘thunk’ of the lock meeting frame. He clenched his teeth and ignored Sakura’s mocking giggle as she took her sweet time to get to him.

“Hurry the hell up!” he shouted, hoping from one foot to the other. She shook her head and ignored his obvious irritated tone. She decided right then she needed to fix her slipping sock, readjust her pants, dig out her keys, and check her texts for good measure. She grinned when he made some choking angered sound, his arms waving agitatedly.

She glanced at him casually and checked her nails, noting the slight chipping of her index paint, before resuming her slow steps towards the man who deserved every bit of torture she was handing to him on behalf of Hinata.

‘Thank me later, missy,’ she thought, smirking to herself.

“What’s taking so long? For Pete’s sake, I’m freezing my ass off.” He could have sworn he saw his breath in the mid afternoon crisp air, but chose to ignore his hallucination and instead focused his irritation towards his turtle of a friend.

“It’s not my problem you strolled out of there in your boxers, a nasty shirt and nothing else.” She tried to not giggle, but the amused tone slipped out, making him narrow his eyes. He was on to her and her devilish tricks to make him suffer.

His hand hit his chest before he glanced down and groaned, his blue eyes rolled up into his head and he sighed dejectedly. He hadn’t changed shirts yet and Hinata’s mess was still caked and flaking in masses off his chest.

‘Fan-fucking-tastic.’

* * *

“Are you going to tell me what exactly happened between you and Uzumaki?” Hanabi broke the awkward silence between the two as they waited for the elevator. Hinata resisted the urge to sigh, but her stiff reaction hadn’t gone unnoticed. Her younger sister smirked silently; it seemed that Hinata had finally lost some of her control and was rather annoyed with her current situation.

“I do not think this is the appropriate time to be speaking about my personal problems,” Hinata replied with what she thought was a controlled response, but it had come out all wrong. Hanabi blinked as she processed the highly annoyed, irritable please, could you kindly fuck off tone her sister had flicked her way.

Hanabi burst out laughing, making her sister glare and cross her arms in irritation. She made a small hmph sound before the elevator doors opened up and invited the siblings up to see their ailing father. Hinata stepped inside and pressed the correct floor and quickly mashed the button that would force the doors closed before her younger sister recovered from her fit.

It didn’t work.

Hanabi had her hand out between the opened doors to prevent them from closing. Hinata narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together. She was getting tired of people laughing at her expense; she wasn’t sure what the joke was, but she was sick of being at the end of it.

“Stop laughing and get inside,” she demanded, which only made her sister laugh harder and lean against the doorway, clutching her stomach. Hinata was slightly confused and was tempted to shove her sister out of the way so the damned elevator could go up and she could get this conversation over with. She came to the obvious conclusion that it wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought, considering how proficient her sister was in the arts of trickery.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation; the laughter was becoming infectious. She was trying really hard not to smile, but her sister was now at the point where she was barely making a sound, gasping for air and sliding down the metal door.

This was ridiculous.

“What is so funny?” she asked again and, this time, her smile betrayed her and she slipped out a giggle. Soon she joined her sister into the fit of laughter, still not quite sure of the reason.

* * *

Naruto cringed as he peeled off his shirt; he sighed and wondered absently what she was up to. In the dim lights of Sakura’s bedroom, he glimpsed at himself in the full closet mirror doors and, without quite realising it, recalled Hinata’s sleeping form against his chest.

He could see the outline of her face, the feel of her warmth against his skin, how her fingers had slipped into the crease of his arm while she embraced him. He subconsciously squeezed down against the ghostly memory. He couldn’t prevent the racing goosebumps across his arms when he remembered how her breath had fluttered against his skin; he flushed a little and his lips tingled at the memory of the unexpected, and awkward, kiss.

He sighed, groaned even, as he remembered the very feminine sounds that slipped out of her lips while she slept against him. He sat down on the edge of the bed and put his head between his hands as he tried to ignore the lingering warmth from her, tried to forget the obstinate memory caused by the feel of her breasts pressed against him, but, it was too late. His thoughts had wandered off down a path he hadn’t been on in a very long time.

He thought about her blush, how it dusted her cheeks and the slight stutter that would come out when she was nervous, especially around him. It was endearing and he imagined that it would be an entire different scenario under the right circumstances. There was no denying it - he enjoyed indulging himself shamelessly in those little scenarios.

He smirked; he especially liked the one where her blush had turned into a flush that crawled slowly down her neck and that stutter turned into something more primal, a sound that was much more needy and completely out of control. He couldn’t help it; when he thought about her eyes in those situations, how he would crack her perfection, he felt a certain part of his body twitch in anticipation. He wanted her to let go, indulge herself in the feel of spontaneity and relish in the feel of sin.

This was a fairly new development for this relationship, if he could call it that. He had to admit that knowing before-hand that she used to crush on him has given him an unfair advantage, but it also sort of prepared him for this, maybe even instigated his own interest in the Heiress.

She was haunting him, rooting her essence inside his mind, and he was beginning to accept her invasion. In fact, he was enjoying it too much, it seemed, as he felt a certain twitch inside his boxers. He groaned again; he hadn’t thought about another woman like that in years and he was positive it was because of this room. The mirrors were feeding the fantasies and he needed to get out of here or he’d start picturing what Hinata’s creamy thighs looked like spread around his waist, the feel of her around him, clutching his shoulders and how their bodies looked like fucking the hell out of each other.

Maybe he should get the same mirrors on the closet at his house...

“Blech.” He looked away from the fantasy inducing object and stood up, pushing away the smutty thoughts unwillingly as he tried to calm himself down. Funny how that sneak attack kiss had completely forced him to look at Hinata in a new light. A few days ago he couldn’t stop thinking about how to break her shell; now all he wanted to do was split her open in the most primal way and hear her voice call his name at the top of her lungs

He was entirely hopeless and was discovering, unfortunately, that he was the kind of pervert his godfather would have been proud of.

How did he go from genuine curiosity to closet pervert in the span of a week? He had to agree with his inner-pervert that his temptations for the woman’s body were moving too fast, even for him. He felt like a sixteen-year-old lusting after the forbidden fruit, it was highly unusual for him to be this... infatuated... after such a short amount of time.

Maybe he’d repressed old feelings for her from when they were children? He did spend quite a bit of time with her, so it wouldn’t be unusual for him to have liked her then. He had just been too young and stupid to connect the feelings of admiration to liking her.

Probably why Jiraiya always tortured him and called her his girl.

Naruto paused a moment, his fingers flicking through the yellow hair to fix the stubborn spikes as he thought about his godfather and all the times he’d mention something about Hinata.

‘Maybe I was a lot more transparent than I thought.’

One thing was for sure: he was driving the bus to hell and there was no coming back, since he’d busted the GPS, killed the driver and the map was soaked in blood. He gave himself a hard look, a solid ‘talking-to’, in his mind, and reprimanded himself with another glare for not being able to figure out how to apologize sincerely and get her to open up to him again.

But how?

Maybe he shouldn’t have run off like that and comforted her instead?

Then again, what comforts crazy?

“Question of the year,” he mumbled as he pulled a clean shirt over his head he had found in Sakura’s closet a little earlier. He opened up the wicker basket and threw the shirt in with Sakura’s dirty laundry; he peeked in out of habit and rolled his eyes.

Pink everything as always; old habits die hard.

He made his way out of her bedroom and silently stalked the hallway towards the living room. He could hear the sounds of Wheel of Fortune belting out of the television and he had to smile a little. It was Sakura’s favourite show.

“You want to remind me why you keep my clothes in your room?” he asked. She glanced his way and refused to answer him, busy munching the re-heated leftover rice from last night’s dinner. He plopped down next to her on the couch and let his head roll against the back of the seat, landing on her shoulder. She shrugged him off, irritated at his unwanted invasion.

“Well?” He was watching her; she could tell he was making fun of her.

“If you’d stop throwing your shit in my laundry hamper every fucking time you slept in the guest room,” she started, bits of rice flying out of her mouth when she made the ‘f’ in her words, “I wouldn’t wash them and throw them in my closet out of pure laziness,” she huffed. He was trying really hard not to laugh but he was failing miserably.

“Now, shut up! I’m watching my show.”

He smirked, amused at irritating her for once while she was concentrating on something. He started to reach for his phone—that would usually be sitting in his shirt pocket—but he was struck with two things: this was an old t-shirt with no pockets and his phone was currently keeping his keys company on his draft table, at Hinata’s.

‘What about the spare?’ one would ask.

Oh, that one’s on the passenger seat of his car, sitting in Hinata’s driveway.

Great.

“I need to use your phone.” Sakura quirked a brow at him and rolled her eyes before taking her phone out of her pants’ pocket and threw it at him before going back to her Wheel of Fortune.

* * *

Hiashi watched as his daughters entered the loft he’d closed himself into over the last few weeks. His disease had quickly deteriorated his mind; he found it a little ironic that he was afflicted with something that stole his memories while he had worked so diligently to prevent Hinata from remembering her own past.

He had much to speak of with his daughter. Neji had convinced him to tell the truth, tell her why he’d refused to let her remember her old self; maybe this would even allow her to grieve for a mother she’d forgotten.

Before he’d forget why he had in the first place.

Hinata made her way through the small loft; the light that filtered in gave the place a sense of warmth that she knew did not exist. ‘Even the sun lies for you,’ she thought as she noticed her father sitting in the living room. It was eerily quiet despite the comforting mumble of the radio host. She hadn’t seen him in several weeks; she hated to admit it, but in all honesty, she had practically been avoiding him. He wasn’t a pleasant man, almost cruel at times, and her past was filled with memories of his stern teachings. His disappointment in her was something he often became very vocal about if she could rely on the trickles of memory that seeped in every once in a while.

She had questions in regards to when she woke in the hospital, such as why he had decided to re-create her into something cold, uncaring and forcing her to forget her mother, her friends, her past.

Her love.

Hanabi turned towards the kitchen, disappearing through the doors. Hinata heard running water and the sharp sound of metal against metal; her sister was making their father’s tea while making herself scarce. She knew the conversation was going to be unpleasant and she needed to get things ready for the onslaught of tears, shouting and, most likely, her father getting his ass kicked by his eldest.

Hinata noticed papers strewn around the living room; it was messy so she assumed that Neji had just left for a while. She approached her father quietly, but loud enough to announce her presence. She wasn’t sure if he was awake or asleep, his face was impassive, eyes closed in a meditation.

“Father?” she quietly called to him, making him stir. His eyes focused on her momentarily and he gave her a soft smile. She blinked.

Her father was smiling.

At her.

She frowned.

“You called for me?” she asked, taking a seat close to him. He nodded and waited as Hanabi approached with three empty cups, placed them on the coffee table, and sat down. She poured small amounts in the cups and passed one to her father before leaning in and kissing his cheek in greeting.

Hinata frowned again; this was highly unusual.

“Yes, Hinata. There are things we need to discuss.” He looked down at the brown liquid swirling slightly inside the cup.

“Such as?” She nodded to her sister, who had given her a cup as well. Hanabi winked at her, which startled Hinata even more; she was getting a little suspicious of them.

“Your mother, my actions, and your lack of memory and what will happen once I die.” He took a sip of tea and glanced her way; she remained impassive, but, inside, she was suddenly terrified of what he had to say as she felt the breath of her mother’s ghost blow on the back of her neck.

Needless to say, she felt the hair rise on her neck and she didn’t want to turn around.

* * *

“Drop me off back at Hinata’s,” Naruto demanded as he followed his ex through the kitchen. Sakura raised a brow and glanced at him over her shoulder.

“Done feeling sorry for yourself?” she chirped while putting her rice bowl back into the sink. She leaned back against the counter, crossed her arms and waited for him to answer. He narrowed his eyes, annoyed with her precise predictions.

“Yeah, I have a few things to clean up.”

“At the house or personally?” She smirked. He pressed his lips together, annoyed that she had his little plan figured out. At least she didn’t have everything figured out.

“You gonna do something lame like get her flowers?” she joked, making him sigh. Ok, she had the whole damned thing figured out.

“It’s not lame when it has meaning,” he retorted, almost depressed, “especially in the language of flowers, anyway.” She rolled her eyes; she didn’t know much about the language of it, but saying sorry with flowers was overdone and somewhat cliché.

Back then, when he did give her flowers in apology, he always gave her the weirdest combinations; she didn’t get the meaning behind them then and she never will. Flowers were Naruto’s thing.

“Fine, let’s go then, you hopeless romantic.” She grinned at him as he shook his head.

She was totally on to him.

* * *

Naruto stepped inside the flower shop, his keys back safely in his pocket snuggling his phone. He popped a lemon skittle and chewed it slowly; there were at least a dozen messages from Kiba, one from Konohamaru and a mocking one from Sakura he had deleted without even listening to it.

She was grating on his nerves lately, more so than usual. The shit he would normally put up with was becoming an encumbrance. Maybe it was because he had his eyes on a different prize now; his heart had moved away from the safety net of Sakura and into the turbulent love of Hinata.

It seemed she had noticed as well; she had cut out all those comments on how long it’s been since they had fucked, stopped bringing up their break up and how it could have been, how things were and how awful it was. She was quite silent on the subject of him moving on, but she still seemed the same as before, if not a little bit more cautious of what she said around him.

He appreciated it, immensely, even if he knew she was a little opposed to it. Sakura took him for granted far too often and he knew she was realising that he would no longer be hers alone much longer.

He grinned at the thought of belonging to Hinata. It was an attractive offer that he would never have considered before this turbulent week. He had not been interested in relationships, being more focused on his career, but, like anything in life, when things are going smooth, there’s always a bump in the road to make things interesting.

She was the most interesting bump he’d ever encountered. He glanced over the brightly coloured flowers; the deep hues almost seemed to kiss the lighter ones in a lover’s caress.

‘Which ones will bring the message clearly?’ he thought, his fingers touching the petal’s flesh of a purple Hyacinth. He knitted his brow; this would not do. Although they meant to forgive, this was one of the flowers she had asked to put in her garden; it would be in bad taste to give her flowers she connected with her own sorrow.

He needed something a little unusual, since they were both a little strange and out of the ordinary. Their relationship sure reflected that so far. He made his way towards the tulips, since they weren’t usually something you would give a lover. It was an iffy message, tulips in general flirted with the idea of a perfect lover and they were far from that point, but he was looking for something specific: a variegated tulip, one with purple hues.

The meaning behind the type of flowers was quite forward but he wasn’t one to tiptoe around a subject for too long. Besides opening his mouth, and possibly suffering a sudden attack of Foot-in-Mouth syndrome, this was the only direct way he could think of saying ‘You have beautiful eyes.’ He had a strange fascination with them; what better way to say it?

Now he needed another one to let her know he was interested, but, besides the rose, there weren’t many options to proclaim his desire for her. Roses were cliché and he didn’t want to get them. He always found them shallow and commercialised. He’d like to think he had a little bit more depth than that!

‘Which one would show that I feel the same way?’ he thought, looking around and racking his brain on what he could use; which was when he saw it, in the corner of the shop, hiding behind the egotistical bouquets of roses, the Jonquil.

‘Perfect!’ Not only was this a very beautiful flower, it also meant desire. He hoped that, just like the flower’s meaning, she would return his affections, or at would at least—eventually—be brave enough to openly convey her feelings for him, being that she was the one receiving the flowers from him.

Hopefully this worked.

* * *

“I’ve taken something precious away from you Hinata, something I had no right to decide on my own... I... I should have listened to the doctor.” her father’s voice still resonated; echoes of the past haunted him as much as they haunted her.

“I wanted to erase everything, from that day.” His voice didn’t break, but his eyes gave his feelings away; she could see the pain there, the recognition of where his lack of reasoning had come from.

“I needed to erase her kindness from you because I could not bear to see it. Her laughter, her smile, the way she touched everything was the same way you touched everything, even when you had no memory of anything! You were the embodiment of her memory, her legacy and I could not bear the pain of seeing my dead wife in you.”

“I’m sorry, so sorry, Hinata...” her father had broken down. She hadn’t said a single word to him the whole time she was there listening to him speak; hours ticked by as he went on to divulge his deepest secrets, his darkest plans and his deepest pain. She’d always thought her father to be an emotionless man, but, in the end, it turned out he was a man so overwhelmed by emotion, he had to cut them away.

She sighed, her mind still processing the conversation. He didn’t know that she could remember most of her past now, all the things he’d said then...

They both needed to grieve the loss of her mother. Hanabi had been too young and her father had been too shocked to allow himself to grieve. She had not been allowed to even feel the loss of her mother.

“We’re here,” her sister’s voice drifted through the thickness of her thoughts, Hinata felt out of it, unfocused. Her fingers fumbled the door handle and she waved good-bye to her sister as she pulled away into the twilight. She pulled her jacket closer, fighting the chill of the night.

She had no tears left, she feared.

She eyed the entrance of her home, noting the few lights that were on, and wondered if Naruto had returned. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach as she thought about earlier—the argument over nothing, the scuffle, the sneak attack kiss, and her running away.

There was no way around it, she had run away from him and ignored him like a child when he had called her name. The fear of his rejection had taken over and it still had control over her. She made her way up the walkway. Her shaking fingers touched the metal of the knob, but they did not turn it. She was frozen there. Doubts were eating at her, fears of his reaction when he saw her and what he would say to her.

What would she say to him?

She was still in shock at her own actions with him; she also felt slighted with him that he called Sakura to pick him up, even if she continued to remind herself she had no business being jealous.

She had no right to him; she had earned nothing to gain his favour.

She gripped the knob and pushed the door open, peeking in, her eyes following the darkening hallway and with her ears perked to any unusual sounds, but it was quiet.

‘Maybe he’s gone to bed.’ She hoped to avoid another confrontation; she was tapped out on feelings and logic. She removed her coat, hung it on the coat rack and removed her shoes. She tip-toed to her room, but stopped in her tracks mid-way.

The orange ottoman was in front of her door and, on it, was a sleeping Naruto. She narrowed her eyes in the dim light, wondering if she had to wake him so she could go to bed. Her options weren’t many and all pointed to ‘yes, you have to wake him.’

‘Here goes nothing.’

She tried the conventional ways of waking someone: a light tap, a shake of the shoulder, a kick to the foot and even calling his name lightly, but nothing was working. She resorted to shaking his shoulder and yelling his name, which finally had an effect. He stirred, blinked and frowned a little, as though he couldn’t quite figure out where he was.

He focused his sleepy blue eyes on her and smiled softly, making her squint her eyes in mistrust. He straightened up in the ottoman, stretching himself out, and yawned before getting up.

“Oh good, you’re finally home.” He disarmed her with another grin; his sleep tussled hair was a distraction she wasn’t entirely ready to deal with.

“You were waiting for me?” She perked a brow in confusion. He nodded and his fingers gently grabbed her arms, pulling her closer to him.

“Wait right here,” he said, pointing his finger at her and backing up to his room, slipping inside the darkness like a thief. This was not the reaction she anticipated from him.

She expected a stern talking-to, a glare, or some angry words. Maybe even the silent treatment, but certainly not that smile that made her heart pitter-patter. He had unsettled her again without doing anything and she decided then and there that she was hopeless and completely infatuated with him.

She watched him reappear into the light, his hands hiding behind him with a lop-sided grin.

What was he up too?

“Hinata,” he started, his voice holding an uncertainty that made her blink. Was he nervous? “I think we started things a little rough, this morning.”

Was that a blush creeping on the flesh of his bronzed cheeks? She was seeing things.

“So, I hope we can try again, this time maybe...” He paused, trying to find better words than ‘let’s try again, I promise I won’t shove you away in a rage this time’, but nothing was coming to mind.

‘Great, I spent forty-five minutes working on this speech only to pass out and forget the whole thing. Brilliant, Uzumaki. Brilliant.’ So he did the next best thing.

Hinata blinked in confusion when he trailed off and presented her with a strange combination of tulips and a jonquil. He started to blabber on about something but she couldn’t quite hear him, she was captured by the meaning of the jonquil.

He desired her. She was a bit shocked.

“What...?” she whispered, interrupting Naruto’s stumble of words and apologies. He looked at her, suddenly worried that she wasn’t getting the meaning behind the flowers. She seemed really knowledgeable of the language, considering the careful selection she had picked for the commissioned gardens.

“I’m apologising...?” he said with uncertainty. Maybe he should back away? Her face was unreadable and he was almost positive he’d screwed up again. She tipped her head in confusion and stared at the tulip, she wasn’t entirely sure of the meaning behind it since they were meant for lovers.

“I’m not quite clear with the meaning of the tulip. Could you... enlighten me?” she asked again, afraid to look at him. She glanced up quickly, but there was a blush tinting her cheeks as she took the jonquil from his hands. She understood that one clearly and he in turn suddenly grew very nervous at his own strange confession.

“Well... it means,” he nearly whispered, but, wanting her to look at him, he tipped her chin towards him. Her gaze met his and she blushed; she could feel the small shake in his hand as he tried to overcome the awkwardness of this moment. She bit her lip as she waited to see what he would say.

He smiled softly which made her breath hitch. “... beautiful eyes.” She blushed, hard, and felt her heart nearly tip out of her lips when he grinned that sexy smile that made her want to explore his mouth.

“I’m sorry for today, Hinata,” he continued, while maintaining the hold on her chin, his eyes wandering down to her mouth, making her lick them in response, very conscious of the attention. He raised a brow and repressed the urge to smirk; was she thinking about their kiss from that morning?

“I was a bit a surprised, I didn’t expect that you would do that, let alone felt that way, still.” She frowned.

“What do you mean?” she breathed out. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin; she could tell he had eaten skittles, the yellow ones. He smelled like lemons and coffee and she relished in the feel of the little goosebumps that formed as he trailed a finger on her jaw line.

“Well, I knew you liked me when I was a kid.” His gaze followed his finger. He noted the perfection of her pale skin and could see her heart beating, a little faster than before. Maybe he wasn’t too late? Maybe he could fix this.

“You did?” She tried to look away, embarrassed and a little mad about the fact he knew that she was already in love with him back then.

“Yeah, and I am a little concerned about a few things.” He leaned in a little while she looked away. Feeling him moving in, she backed up, out of habit, but her back hit the wall in a soft thump. She pressed her free hand against the barrier and swallowed.

“Concerned? About what, exactly?” She tried to gain control again, but he had moved in quite close. She could feel his body heat and she wasn’t sure if it was her heart making that loud thumping noise. She looked a little startled when she felt the tickle of his breath on her neck and turned her face to look at him.

She almost fainted as a result; he was so close, their noses almost bumped into each other. She was suddenly very nervous, her heart was going out of control.

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure if it was you that wanted me,” he moved in again; she could feel his breath, the murmur of his words making her lightheaded. His body grazed her sensually and she closed her eyes without realising, “or if you only liked me because of your memories.” She felt a tremor crawl from the base of her back to her head, goosebumps chasing it relentlessly, making her shudder against her will.

“Do you…?” he purred out, pushing his luck as he moved in closer, licking his own lips in want. They were not quite touching but the intimacy was so intense she thought she felt his lips.

He was tricky, sneaky even, like a fox.

“Do I, what?” She felt suddenly impatient, wanting the discussion to end and to press her lips against his to get this uncertainty over with.

‘Want me as much as I do you?’ he thought, but it seemed a little too forward. He had to think of something less crass, a little classier, but he couldn’t quite put his thoughts in order; her alluring scent was driving him crazy and he could hear her heart beating wildly.

Dizzy and disregarding the anxiety of rejection, Naruto was anticipating her touch. The feel of her skin was intoxicating and he was losing a little bit of control. This was not what he had planned; it was getting a little bit out of hand, but he went with it— she didn’t seem to mind.

“Can we...” He grazed her nose with his own, his eyes searching for any rejection on his closeness, but he couldn’t find any. Her mouth was slightly open, her eyes closed and she had grabbed onto his shirt, fisting it in her nervousness. She didn’t miss him breathing in her scent and she felt her heart flutter, making her do the same to him. His eyes widened a fraction and it took everything in him not to crash his mouth down on hers in a searing kiss.

‘Get a hold of yourself! Don’t screw this up!’ he berated himself.

Reluctantly, he squeezed his eyes shut and reprimanded his out of control hormones. He took another deep breath and repressed the urge to hit his forehead against the wall behind her.

“Can we try again?” he asked her. She licked her lips again, at first uncertain on what he was requesting, but it didn’t take long for her to get the hint and she nodded lightly, her mind a little muddled from the proximity of his body. He pressed himself against her, dropping the tulip as he reached and grabbed her softly by the nape of the neck. His lips grazed her own in a teasing manner that made her toes curl and she shuddered when his fingers loosened the bun and tangled themselves in her hair.

He leaned in and she could almost taste the lemon of his long eaten skittles, the heat of his skin tingling her own, making her whole body feel like it was on fire as she felt his thigh slip between her legs, bringing their bodies closer.

‘Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me,’ she sang like a mantra inside her mind and he was more than happy to oblige; he was but mere millimetres from his goal.

“Hinata, you forgot your purse in the.... Oh!”

They both opened their eyes in surprise and whipped their heads towards the intruder. Hanabi stood there, grinning and laughing deviously, while Hinata blushed to a new shade of red and Naruto cursed openly at his bad luck.

* * *

Wow, I’m an evil bitch. R&R! :P

References:
Jonquil: Love Me; Affection Returned; Desire; Sympathy; Desire for Affection Returned
Tulip: Variegated - Beautiful Eyes