Drabble post [GaaSaku]
I decided to take a small break from NaNoWriMo to make a quick drabble post. Gaara simply will not give me a break and Sakura decides to back up his tantrums with demands of her own. *sighs* What's an abused fanfic writer supposed to do?
As usual, these don't have a particular timeline and are AU.
A quick thanks to my Shiroi Sisters for the prompts. ♥
Hope you enjoy them!
°°°°°Towel
This was one of the precise reasons why he preferred for her to spend the night at his place rather than the other way around.
He had just turned off the hot water, opened the curtain and had frozen in place, in all his naked glory, hesitating as he always did whenever he found himself taking a shower at Sakura’s apartment.
Gaara realized it was too early in the morning to get upset, even for him. But that suddenly didn’t matter.
He glared.
The victim of his fiery jade stare was none other than one of Sakura’s towels, hanging happily on a hook on the tiled wall as if mocking him explicitly.
It wouldn’t have mattered if it were pink; he’d come to that conclusion a long time ago. If the fabric had been any kind of shade of cerise, he would have been able to tolerate it because it would be just like her hair: bright and lively. Her unique tone of tresses was precisely one of the reasons he loved her, for it made her stand out over the rest. The pink colour of her locks was a direct reflection of her vigorous personality and mirrored the way she went about life without caring about what others thought concerning her appearance.
No, the towel was not pink.
It was a terribly light tone of lilac… with a print of extremely bright yellow flowers all over it.
Its outright girly-ness and blatant airheadish qualities simply infuriated him.
What could have possessed her to even consider buying such a horrendous and offending item was beyond his comprehension. And what made it all the worse was the fact that he was forced to dry himself with it every time he used her bathroom to take a shower.
A shiver of cold ran down his spine as the water on his skin suddenly became chilly. He knew he should move and dry himself for he would be freezing his rear off in a few more moments. But he continued to glare at the towel, as if he could exchange it for another one with the sheer force of his will.
Gaara had been reminding himself to bring his own towel and leave it at her apartment for Kami knew how long. One of his navy blue towels; masculine and dignified towels. A towel he could wrap around his waist without feeling he was losing a great part of his self-respect while doing so. A towel he didn’t want to throw into a fire pit and watch the flames consume every last inch of its offending fabric.
‘I will bring one later on today,’ he thought resolutely. ‘This will be the last time I do this.’
His muscles twitched in response to the cold as a soft breeze made its way through the small bathroom window.
Swallowing his pride, the redhead reached out towards the offending item with a rapid motion, intent on getting this whole thing over with as quickly as possible.
The demeaning things she made him go through were sometimes unbelievable.
°°°°°
Exile
There was nothing to be done.
Her small house was effectively infested by termites and she would have to leave while the extermination company she had hired made sure that the plague was eradicated successfully. Five to seven days, they had said, or else she would risk her health by being exposed to the toxic fumes with which they were planning to eliminate her problem.
Sakura wasn’t entirely happy with this prospect but there truly was nothing else she could do. Anything to get rid of the dammed termites that wanted to eat through her pretty pine ceiling and every other wooden piece of furniture she owned. Thus, it was inevitable for her to seek shelter elsewhere and even though she hated doing it, she would have to swallow her pride.
She dialled Gaara’s cell phone number and waited for him to pick up.
The pink haired girl was sure she would never hear the end of this, especially since he’d been constantly insisting for her to move in with him for months. The way he would mention it every chance he had could truly be called psychological harassment; it did no good to have such a stubborn boyfriend but Sakura could no nothing about that either.
It seemed her hands were tied more often than not these days.
“Good morning,” came his deep baritone voice after the fourth tone.
“Hey,” Sakura replied sullenly but didn’t offer anything else.
A small lapse of silence followed and she was sure of his soundless amusement on the other side of the line; knowing him, he had probably already guessed why she was calling.
“Did you meet with the extermination agents?” he asked after a moment.
“Yes.”
“…And?”
The pink haired girl breathed in deeply to strengthen her resolve. “They’re going to have to fumigate and it’ll take a few days…”
A pause.
“Can I stay with you?”
If he had been standing in front of her, she would’ve thrown a punch directly at his face for the sneering chuckle he elicited.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“This is just temporal, Gaara,” she warned, knowing very well that he would try his best to keep her at his apartment permanently once she was there. “It’s just for a few days.”
“So you say.”
“Yes it is!” she replied, stomping her foot on the ground as she did so. “You know I love my house and I’ve worked really hard for it. I’ve told you a million times that if you want us to live together, you should move in with me.”
“I can’t do that,” he said in a completely calm tone. “Your apartment’s infested with termites. You won’t find any plagues at my flat… it’s top of the line.”
The sheer infuriating arrogance of the man.
Sakura bit her lip to stop herself from throwing a barrage of insults his way. He always complained that her house was old and held no allure; she’d always told him that this didn’t matter to her as long as it was cozy and it was her own. But he was relentless. Nonetheless, she knew all he wanted was for her to loose her cool just so he could amuse himself and she wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of falling for his ruse.
Gaara chuckled darkly again at her silence, imagining the small pout on her face that she always elicited when she was annoyed at him. How he loved to wipe that look off her face with his mouth. He was really looking forward to her spending the week at his apartment. Despite the fact that she complained that her house was far more inviting, she never had qualms when falling asleep on his couch or in his bed or when walking around in her underwear all over the place.
He’d convince her to move in yet… she just didn’t know it.
“At what time do you want me to pick you up?” he asked.
Sakura sighed in defeat. There was no point in getting worked up about this. “Around 4 o’clock would be fine.”
“Perfect,” he replied but added something as an afterthought. “Should I bring some large boxes?”
“Gaara, I told you I won’t be moving out!” she yelled as she moved to hang up the phone abruptly.
That didn’t prevent her from hearing his amused laughter at her expense before the line went dead.
He really did enjoy pulling her strings.
°°°°°
Chopin
“What the hell is this?” Gaara asked in confusion as he stepped into Sakura’s living room, slightly stunned at the music reverberating all over the place.
“It’s Chopin,” she shouted from the bedroom where she was getting ready. They were going out to dinner and her redheaded lover had just arrived to pick her up.
Gaara picked up the case of the album that was blasting through her speakers and furrowed his brow.
“Since when do you listen to classical music?”
“I’ve always listened to it,” Sakura countered with an arrogant tone. She simply couldn’t avoid teasing him.
“Not in all this time I’ve been around,” he replied annoyingly.
“Precisely, you haven’t been with me all my life now have you?” the pink haired girl answered with a serious tone but couldn’t avoid hiding a chuckle behind one hand as she combed her hair quickly with the other.
There was no reply to that and only the sounds of the orchestra coming from her living room answered her jibe.
Gaara appeared in the doorway, looking sour. “It was a previous boyfriend of yours, wasn’t it? That’s why you never listened to it in my presence because he was the one who taught you to like this music.”
If there had been a table or desk anywhere near, Sakura would have slammed her forehead against its surface repeatedly in that instant.
How the hell he came up with these theories was beyond her understanding. She didn’t know what was worse, the constant tantrums or the paranoia.
“Gaara, don’t be an idiot! Of course it wasn’t an ex-boyfriend! I’ve listened to classical music all my life. Did you know that I played the violin when I was kid?”
He cocked his head to the side, digesting this new information. Satisfied that it hadn’t been a former lover that had been involved in the situation, he conceded to the change in topic.
“You? An instrument?”
“Yes. Me. Haruno Sakura. A violin” she replied, matching his one word questions with a chuckle.
The redhead seemed to be slightly taken aback with the news but was clearly impressed. “Why did you stop playing?”
“Because by the time I got to high school, I was too worried about getting into a good college to keep up with it so I just dropped it.”
Gaara kept silent but watched her intently as she moved around her room gathering her things. He only spoke again when she grabbed her sweater and was ready to go.
“Do you think you could still play?”
Sakura blinked a couple of times, considering his query. “Well, they say that what you learn for good you never forget. So I might be able to play a few tunes, yeah. I wouldn’t be any good though.”
“I’d like to hear you play,” he said, the side of his mouth turning up into a half-grin.
Smiling back at this unusual display of interest, she walked up to him and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“I think my mum may have my old violin stashed up somewhere. I’ll ask her about it the next time I talk to her.”
The redhead nodded but seemed to be struck with a sudden thought and was overwhelmed by an abrupt visual.
“What is it?” Sakura asked, furrowing her eyebrows.
The smile he offered her was utterly different from the one he’d given her seconds before and she recognized it as the kind of grin he elicited whenever a devious thought crossed his mind.
“Do you think you could play the violin naked for me?”
Sakura answered him by smacking him forcefully on the back of the head.