[Log] If You Can Mend It, You Can Break It [Part 2 of 4] BACKDATED
Characters: Gaara and Sakura
Date: Late June 30th
Location: Streets of Celo, Sakura's apartment
Warnings/Notes: PG-13; Violence, language, blood, Gaara's general creepiness
Summary: A simple stroll home after a busy day at work goes terribly awry.
The low rumble of the man's chuckles vibrated through her prone form, sinister and something she was not used to dealing with when directed at her. Regardless of some of the less then savory characters she was used to dealing with, they'd left her alone and borderline respected her for her ability to piece them back together again. But right here, she was nothing but another warm body to be used and disposed of as this guy seemed fit and the utter hard-hitting reality of the situation would have buckled her knees if she could have been sure her neck wouldn't be snapped in the action.
Even still, she couldn't help but stiffen at the very proprietary way Gaara had laid claim to her - as if he had such a right.
Two breaths - one deep intake of air, one ragged sigh as it escaped his lips. One step back - more like a shifting of feet, turning slightly to where his left foot was positioned in front of his right, and his body was facing the other at a sideways angle. All small adjustments... all actions the murderer/rapist might have prevented had he known how fatal they could be.
Gaara didn't give the man any more warnings. Truthfully, he was kind of glad this stranger was so stubborn. It only meant more fun for him; more of an adrenaline rush.
The red-head crouched, then leaned forward, pushing off his right foot to lunge towards Sakura's attacker. He wouldn't be able to make it in time, if the man decided to go ahead with his silent threat, and snap the girl's neck, but Gaara had already predicted this outcome. Twisting the knife around in his hand so he could better grip the handle by the ends of his fingers, the insomniac raised his arm in a graceful arc, and flicked his wrist.
The sound of metal flying met his ears for a half-second, before a dull thunk signaled the knife's landing. Gaara smirked as he witnessed his own handiwork. The gleaming metal blade had just barely whizzed past Sakura's own captured head, and lodged itself into their attacker's neck. Not enough to seriously cripple, but hopefully enough to distract...
She'd still be bristling at the 'She's Mine' claim when she felt the air change about them slightly and the minute shifting of Gaara's stance. She couldn't read what was going on behind the slits of jade eyes that so intently focused on her captor, at this point she figured it was probably for the best that she couldn't...not with the murderous intent she was nearly choking on at the moment. Despite the fact that a small part of her wanted to severely hurt this guy who had dared to pull her into this situation, to even contemplate whatever it was going through his pea-sized brain in regards to her, feasibly she knew she didn't have the stomach for causing another pain.
Even though at this moment in time, she almost wished that she could.
Sakura's eyes remained locked on the silent form in front of her and her breath caught in her throat when she saw the slight shifting of muscles. Eyes squeezed tightly shut so she couldn't see whatever was coming, waiting for something whether it was her untimely demise with her captor having reached his limit with her or whatever was about to happen. There was the shifting of air as something slid just by her cheek and the sudden jerking of the body behind her, a liquid heat that warmed her shoulder as it spread even as a raspy gasp echoed loudly in her ear as the tight grip on her loosened noticeably.
There was no thought to what he did next. There was but the moment, and what action needed to be taken to insure his survival. Gaara's eyes were hazed over with the thrill of the hunt. He still saw everything going on around him - the adrenaline pumping through his veins heightened his senses dramatically -, but his focus just happened to be on the man whose blood he had shed.
His forward momentum was unstoppable and unchangeable. The red-head still lunged for the man in front of him...
... It just so happened that Sakura was between him and his target.
That was but a minor setback, though, in the grand scheme of things. The feel of her flesh colliding with his chest barely registered in his mind. At the moment, the medic was nothing more than a wall to be pushed through.
And push through he did. Gaara gripped Sakura's shoulders for a half second, slamming her back into their attacker, which in turn slammed him back into the brick wall of the alleyway. A low rumble sounded in the back of the red-head's throat as he pressed even closer, veritably trapping Sakura between both of their bodies. He reached up, his lips brushing along the girl's jaw as he tilted his head to better glare at the man behind her.
"I'll kill you."
The menace in his tone was punctuated by the sickening sound of metal ripping through skin, as Gaara pulled his knife from the other's neck.
Sakura had been a split second away from falling away from this hellish nightmare when a not so gentle shove sent her tripping backwards, the breathing wall behind her cushioning the impact only slightly. There was no room for protest or outrage, no time for it really before there was another body holding her into place, sandwiching herinbetween two obvious psychopaths. Somehow she managed to wedge her hand between her and Gaara, his heart beat obvious under her palm, in an attempt to shove him away but her action was stalled with the soft threat she had heard quite a few times in their conversations. This time however, there was no doubt that each word was meant to the fullest extent and thankfully they weren't even directed at her, not that it stopped the shiver that snaked down her spine.
Nor the strangled whimper that escaped unchecked from her lips at the disgusting tear of flesh all too close to her ear.
Perhaps she should have listened to her father and stayed in the Blue District after all, there would have been no chance of this sort of thing happening there.
His heart was beating faster - he barely registered the sudden warmth that had been placed over his chest. Instead, his cold jade gaze was fixated on the man just behind Sakura. It was obvious his threats weren't mere folly - he would kill this man, this would-be attacker. The scent of his blood was already tantalizing his senses, making the red-head crave to spill even more of that life-giving liquid.
... No matter the shaking girl who was currently trapped in the middle of this madness.
Fondling the hilt of the blade, he let his hands readjust to its familiar weight. He was contemplating what to do next - whether to slit the man's throat right now, or gouge out his eyes first and let him suffer -, when a sudden movement caught his attention.
Before the stranger could wrap his hand around Sakura's throat, like he intended, Gaara shoved the knife into his side, deep enough to hit bone. It made the other freeze, shocked by the intense pain, and then...
The gut-wrenching scream which issued forth from his lips was guttural and choked enough to sound nearly demonic. Gaara smirked at his handiwork, eyes brightening with a mad glint.
"Your blood is filthy..." he leaned in, resting his chin on Sakura's shoulder as he preceded to taunt the man further. Twisting the knife while it was still embedded in the other's flesh, he trailed his hand up so his fingers could smear along the blood still dripping from the other's neck.
"... But so very warm."
A pause, and then, "... Tell me. How would you like to die?"
Sakura's eyes clenched tightly shut with surprising wail of pain that nearly deafened her, her ear being entirely too close to the source for her own comfort. Her brain was running on a constant loop of distress as it had since this entire debacle had started but the body almost writhing in agony turned her stomach nearly as much as the thought of those meaty hands roaming freely over her hip. The soft seductive whispers of death that were being purred from her secondary antagonist surely weren't helping matters either.
The speed of Gaara's heart increased, she assumed it was with his increasing excitement with this little psychotic episode. With him resting on her shoulder she couldn't see his face - a small fact she was glad for. Her opinion of this man was already rather skewed and at this particular moment it would probably be her breaking point. Weakly she tried to push Gaara away, the sadistic promises of pain echoing as loudly as the thug's screams. Another sharp jerk and whimper from behind her brought forth a little more strength to her efforts but she was finding him to be immovable.
"Stop," she whispered, her first word since this ordeal began that wasn't muffled by the other's hand. "Please, just stop..."
Gaara was nearly completely engulfed in the bloodlust which hazed his mind. The fear, the adrenaline... it surrounded him, suffocated him, until the only way to find relief from this crushing pain was to take out some of the pressure on another's unwilling body. Slowly, he was devolving from wanting to kill this man... to needing to kill this man.
And nothing... absolutely nothing could stop hi-
The silent pressure against his chest hadn't been enough to catch his attention, but the softly spoken, near-desperate words were enough to make the air come rushing out of his lungs. He pulled back slightly and shifted his heavy jade gaze onto the girl trapped between them, the look on his face twisting into an imitation of a scowl. He might have growled in warning, had the oxygen not completely left his body. After a few moments, his chest began to ache, yet it seemed he had forgotten how tobreat-
No. When he finally seemed to comprehend Sakura's pleas, the air came rushing back to him in an audible gasp. Trapped between the need for murderous intent, and wanting to see her, wanting his control back, Gaara struggled to keep his focus on the girl... and struggled to tear his attention away.
As if the heavy exhale wasn't enough of a hint, the physical stepping back gave her the needed sign to say that her plea had been heard at the very least. Turning her gaze from the ground and up to that interesting mix of impassiveness and something almost bestial staring down at her, almost as if he were seeing her for the first time.
"Just stop, he's not going to do anything else." Briefly she wondered why she was even trying - it wasn't as if Gaara was going to listen to her opinion of the matter, if the guy was even going to survive what had already been done to him anyway. Even without her tools and instruments, she could easily hear the aspirating blood slowly filling the man's lungs, the pained whimpers that could barely be made out with the gurgle of blood. She pressed forward gently, hoping this distinct contrast would help draw even more of his attention to her despite the fact that would have been the last thing she could have possibly wanted not ten minutes ago. Just like she had very much wished to have been able to fight back, to hurt her attacker in some way, the reality of the situation was far worse then whatever she could have come up with.
Not to mention Sakura really didn't think she could live with someone else's blood on her hands. Someone who died in her care was one thing, people came to her for her to fix them. But she was never the one to have caused the injuries.
"He's been incapacitated, you do not have to do anymore, please? Just step back and let him go..."
It was very hard for him to focus beyond the blood steadily spilling from his victim's wounds, and turn the force of his frantic senses on the girl currently trying to redirect his attention. The soft press of her body against his chest distracted him further, but it was a hard battle when the man's choked cries were just so tempting.
"I... can't," Gaara whispered hoarsely, and it was very much the truth.
As if he couldn't control his movements, in one swift motion he leaned forward - not pushing Sakura back, but engulfing her with his very presence -, and pulled the knife out one more time, swinging it in a low, graceful arc and letting the blade slice deep into the skin of the other mans' lower thigh.
Unfortunately, the medic was in the way of this motion, as well, and he happened to cut a thin line along her hip - not enough to fatally wound, but surely enough to make her bleed. Gaara was cut short by this action - usually his aiming wasn't so shoddy -, and paused in the inevitable slaughter of the man once again, opting to stare trans-fixedly at the pink-haired girl's wound. He swiped his tongue along his lower lip once, slowly, in a show of deranged bloodlust, and it seemed he had finally found a distraction worth grasping for.
Sakura.
A small gasp escaped from her throat with the sudden surge forward, not being able to stop herself from cringing at the second wretched sound of flesh being torn with the displacement of the knife. For a brief moment Sakura's heartlept up into her throat.
Her pleas for the other man had only turned Gaara's attention to her - something she had been seeking, but not in this manner! She could almost see the bloodied knife being raised only to find itself in her throat this time, something to silence her for good rather then allowing her to continue speaking like with their last meeting. Which would be why her only reaction to the knife grazing her hip was only met by a sharp intake of breath, her hip being a safe distance away from her throat, thank goodness. Adrenalin helped to keep any associated pain at by while Sakura took this saving grace as permission to continue negotiations, her hand easing over to where Gaara's still tightly clenched around the bloody knife. Her fingers slickly slid over his own, trying gently to get a grip on the weapon to try and get it away while he seemed so distracted.
"You can," she pressed softly, her fingers moving firmly to dislodge the weapon. Her actions halted momentarily when the formerly unmovable wall behind her suddenly slumped against her back. Slowly the guy slid down to the rain-wet ground, very nearly dragging Sakura down with him with her being pinned between the two. No surprise there, with all the blood staining the three of them it had only been a matter of time really.
At least he was still breathing, laboriously, but still breathing nonetheless.
"See? He's already down. There's no reason to keep doing this."
His prey... was down. Gaara wasn't a vulture... he was a lion. If it wasn't a fresh kill... if he couldn't feel the blood seep through his own hands and hear his victim's tortured cries... then it was barely worth the effort. Still... he needed so badly to feel that warm crimson liquid playing across his fingers... he needed that sense of touch that he could tolerate, that sense of closeness that he could stand.
Shuddering, the red-head closed his eyes, dark black bruises covering up the space where bright jade had been. He leaned forward a bit more, forcing back the urge to convulse at the warmth radiating from the girl in front of him. Tilting his head down, he breathed deeply, taking in the scent of her hair, and of the blood splatter across her form.
The blood...
It was a movement too sudden for even him to comprehend. One moment he was standing upright before Sakura... the next, he was on his knees in front of her, one hand steadying itself on her waist, the other brushing softly along the ripped fabric of her hospital-issued scrubs. He dipped his thumb through the rip, letting it rub along her skin, just short of brushing the actual wound. The smear of blood this motion caused was nearly intoxicating.
"You're bleeding." His words were soft, almost reverent, as he continued to play almost absently with the droplets of blood red that fell from the cut, his hand stroking her hip in what would have been a sensually provocative manner, had he been thinking along those terms.
Just when Sakura was so sure things couldn't get any more traumatic or even just weirder then it had been just seconds prior - things just kept throwing her for a loop. It was honestly hard to say which was more disturbing at the moment, the fact that she was holding the instrument of torture, the blood and gore staining her fingers - or the fact that Gaara seemed to have done a morbid 360 and was now intent on molesting her hip.
What higher power did she anger so to deserve this sort of thing?
The knife fell from her fingers and clattered to the concrete as she mentally debated on her next course of action. He wasn't really doing anything that terrible, he was actually pretty tolerable when he was focused like this almost like a child with a new toy. Breaking him from his trance would possibly bring down his wrath on her and the cycle of violence would begin all over again - and Sakura was too exhausted to go running through anymore dark alleyways that night. The rain had yet to let up, they were both soaked through completely with the added bonus of blood seeping through their clothing. A sudden flashback of Gaara leaning forward to lick away the blood that had been the result of his taunting during that wretched incident in the elevator came back to haunt Sakura, that same fascination was here now and Sakura wasn't about to wait and see if he would attempt to do the same again.
Not with the adrenaline wearing off and it starting to burn like hell, something his stroking was doing nothing to ease.
"Come on, we need to get out of here," she urged quietly, reaching down to simply lay her hand on the wrist holding her in place. "If you don't argue, we can go to my place and get you dried out and warmed up, ok?
Gaara pulled his hand away from the wound at Sakura's insistence, smearing the sticky blood around his fingers with his thumb. It was still pouring the rain, cold drops beating down on his back as he continued to stare almost dazedly at the lovely cut in front of him. A thin line of raised flesh, highlighted in bright red; a smear of dark crimson spread around the cut, the shadows of the torn fabric only outlining it - giving it definition.
Something tightened in his chest, and he flinched back, straightening up almost too abruptly. It took more effort than he would like to admit to tear his gaze away from the medic's wounded hip, and focus once again on her face. Both of them looked ragged, soaked to the bone, but at least they were better off than the two injured men currently huddled on the alleyway floor.
It wasn't in Gaara's nature to not finish off a kill, but he found himself nodding anyways. He would comply... for now. But only because it would serve his original intentions of getting those annoying stitches out of his skin.
A soft sigh of relief breezed between Sakura's lips with the almost too easily given agreement, but far be it for her to look a gift horse in the mouth. Refusing to look at the two fallen men (as difficult as that was for her), Sakura bent down to pick up her discarded bag and started back towards her apartment - kind of ironic that she had been doing everything she could to avoid this just minutes before. But if it was this or someone's death on her hands, Sakura would take the invasion of her private habitat any day.
If it became that big of an issue, she could always just relocate back to Ceno with her parents.
Tossing a quick glance over her shoulder every so often, they walked in relative silence back to her sanctuary, Sakura too wary of saying anything that might break this odd truce too early. Only when they reached the steps leading to her building did she even pause, knowing that after this moment there was nothing stopping this weirdo from camping out on her doorstep - something not that unlikely since he'd apparently been watching her enough to know some key behaviors of hers. She chewed this thought over on their way up the staircase (no way in hell was the elevator even an option), finally coming to a decision just as she laid her hand on the door knob.
"Before you go any further, you need to know that there are going to be a few ground rules here. Just because I'm letting you in now, does not give you an open ended invitation. Got it?"
Gaara took those silent moments walking towards her apartment to reorganize his scattered mind. The rain washed away the traces of madness from his face - from his hands, too, as pale pink dripped almost lazily off his fingertips, the results of his recent battle cleansed from his skin.
He smirked slightly at her obvious avoidance of the elevator, but didn't comment. He was so very close to his goal right now... it would have been idiocy to rile the girl up for no reason. Not yet, at least.
"You live here?" He was quite obviously ignoring her questions, opting to breeze past them with a question of his own. An obvious one, of course, but he needed to make certain she wasn't lying to him through the motions of her body. Stopping at someone else's door and explaining these things before getting to her own place... that would have been clever.
Gaara was too paranoid to assume the best of this person.
For a moment Sakura silently congratulated herself for a job well done in not immediately letting herself inside, because for at least this brief moment, she held the upper hand.
Something that helped keep the guilt shoved away at their mutually saturated state - something that would not be rectified until she got what she wanted. Pity that it appeared he was going to act exactly how she figured that he would and try and bypass her.
Not. Happening.
"This would be my building, but that's all you're getting out of me until I'm sure that you understand how I am not playing with you. You surely don't see me stalking you outside of your place, do you? I'm asking for the same courtesy here. Obnoxious brute that you are, it's not that hard of a concept for you to grasp, now is it?" Her condescending tone was only emphasized with her arms crossed stubbornly over her chest, trying to appear the stern, in-control woman that she liked to believe that she was. Even if she was little more then a drenched rat at the moment, her hair lying limply over her shoulders and her clothes clinging tightly to her skin.
She could only thank the heavens for her jacket for all the good that it did, else the weirdo be given some sort of show with her very white uniform being little more then transparent with the addition of rain.
Of course she lived here. It was obvious by the protective stance she had taken up in front of the door - arms crossed, feet spread slightly apart in an attempt to make her body more like a wall than the weak little waif that it was. If this was someone else's apartment, then she would have been more apt to lean to the side, or take up the exact same stance in front of the hallway, as a means to keep him from lurking further into a place where her main territory resided.
Slitting his eyes (Gaara wasn't used to being talked down to in such a way. He usually just killed people who would dare do such a thing.), the red-head took a step closer, his drenched body lessening the intimidating stance he took up (Still threatening, despite the way his black shirt clung to his body, accentuating the thinness of his form.).
"Open the door."
Sakura drew herself up to her full 5'6" and glared him down like she would some recalcitrant child. This wasn't working like she had anticipated.
"No. Even if this was my place, I wouldn't. Not until you give me your word. I'm not going any further until you agree to my terms. Waking up in the middle of the night to have you lurking nearby and watching me sleep is not exactly my idea of a good time. You promise or we're not going any farther then right here."
He smirked, taking a quick step forward. He defiance was amusing... but he wouldn't tolerate it for long. Shooting his arm forward, Gaara gripped the handle of the door just behind Sakura in an iron grip, jiggling it back and forth for a moment too confirm that it was indeed locked.
Hn. Not much good that would do.
Leaning in, the red-head twisted the knob to the far right, then jerked it to the left as far as it would go. Nothing. He leaned in further, his chin nudging up against the side of Sakura's head, his chest inches away from her own - so close he could feel the muggy heat radiating from her body. A soft shudder passed through him, and he growled slightly, turning bright jade eyes onto the medic as if this little reaction was her fault.
Growling, he twisted the knob one more time, and pressed forward in the same moment, effectively trapping the pink-haired girl between him and the door. That moment of imprisonment didn't last, though, as the lock finally gave way and the door swung open before them.
It was something she couldn't wrap her mind around. The fact that Gaara apparently had enough personal space issues that she had ended up slammed into an elevator wall, but not enough that she continually found herself in entirely too many up close and personal scenarios. She really couldn't differentiate if her cheeks were flaming due to the sheer audacity of this guy trying to enter an apartment that didn't belong to him, her apartment though she wasn't ready to admit to that just yet or the fact that she could easily feel his body heat steaming through their damp clothes as he pinned her against the door. The traitorous door that gave way under his manipulation of the doorknob (not that Sakura had ever done the same thing when bogged down with an armload of groceries and her keys were not easily reachable), and sent her heart into palpitations with this breech of her sanctuary.
"You can't do that! What if people are home, you can't just go barging into someone's home!" she fumed, one hand reaching out to grasp at the wrist that had just pushed open the door, trying to restrain him from crossing the threshold, her other hand reaching up to brace against his chest. She stepped forward, pushing him in the process to try and keep him in the hallway, trying to keep him away from her one place she could really hide away.
Her pleas may as well have fallen on deaf ears. Gaara was stubborn and unmovable, his eyes shifting from her angry face to the room beyond; taking in his surroundings, studying the room for any hint or clue of government activity.
Ah, so she was still keeping up the charade, was she? A quick sweep of the far wall shot her little lie out of the water. There was a neat little picture frame sitting atop a simple wooden desk that stood directly in his line of sight. The girl in the picture frame was unmistakable - who else had such striking pink hair and emerald green eyes? Two insignificant people stood to either side of her - he parents, most likely -, and it was proof enough that Gaara had stormed into the right place.
So his destination had been chosen correctly. Now, to scope out the place for anything threatening.
He shook free of Sakura's hold, side-stepping her to push past the doorway and into the room beyond.
The breathlessness that had existed with him pinning her against the door came back in a full rush as he stepped over her out of place Welcome mat, something that she had left out in an attempt to make the place a little homier - not as an open invitation for some weirdo to come barging into her personal space and walk around like he owned the place. For a brief moment Sakura wanted nothing more then to stomp her foot and throw a temper tantrum like none other with this open defiance of her wishes, but the adult in her chose to instead follow him in to make sure he didn't desecrate her home.
She sure as hell wasn't about to offer coffee and snacks to make him feel like a welcome guest.
Sulking slightly, she finally gave up with the charade that this wasn't her home, letting her purse and things fall wearily onto a nearby chair as she toed off her shoes.
"Ju-...Just don't touch anything, alright? And don't make yourself too comfortable. You're only here until the rain stops."
"Hm." He at least offered some kind of reply to her demands. Not that he would follow them, of course. Instead of settling in like it seemed she expected he would do, Gaara began a thorough search of her apartment, turning over things here, taking pictures off the wall and checking their backs for any kind of bugging device. Had the government placed tracking devices in her purse or shoes? He would check that next.
After a few moments of searching around the main room for something akin to a camera, the red-head got down on all fours and studied the base trim around her walls. Nothing so far, that was good. He lifted up the edges of her carpet, then rose slightly to stalk over to her couch. Crouching, he ran his hand his hand along the underside, feeling for some kind of bump or groove that would hint at an electrical device. Nothing.
Good. So her house wasn't bugged.
Now the question was... Was she bugged?
Gaara finally turned towards the pink-haired medic, a suspicious look darkening his eyes.
"Take your shoes off."
She had only gotten her one shoe halfway off when she watched Gaara crouch down and start groping her baseboard. The oddness of the situation had her pausing in her movements to watch curiously as he examined random items and then even lifted up her carpet - what in the hell was he looking for?
Completely perplexed with the unorthodox search, the order didn't immediately register in her brain but when it did, her foot was jammed right back into the sodden shoe in mutiny.
"What is your malfunction? You come barging into my home, feel up my things and now you're telling me what to do? We need to get a few things straight if you think I'm going to allow this, before you find yourself out on your ass in the rain." Her jaw set as she glowered down at him, trying to appear completely unmovable and stern, something to try and break through so that he wouldn't keep pushing her and her wants aside.
Ah, so she was going to be difficult, again? The fact that she refused only heightened his suspicions. It was likely she refused him because she had something to hide...
It was also just as likely she refused him because she was nearly as stubborn as the red-head. Still, he pushed this more logical thought aside in favor of his own paranoid reasoning. Gaara didn't trust anyone. It was as simple as that. If she would but cooperate with him a little bit, it would make this whole ordeal a little more bearable. At the moment, though, he found it difficult to hold in his growl of frustration at her hardheadedness.
Gaara didn't bother with words. Words would only prolong the monotony of the situation.
In half a moment, he was crouched before her, body tensed and ready for a fight. The red-head grabbed her ankle, intent on forcefully removing her shoes, yet still completely aware of the fact that, because of his position, she could kick him at any moment.
What was it with this guy?! Sakura very nearly lost her balance with the sudden grip on her ankle, green eyes wide as she reached out to brace herself against the wall before she could topple over onto her rear - the slick soles of her shoes barely holding onto the aged wooden floors as it were. Having reached the end of her patience back in the alleyway where this all began, Sakura reached down and snatched a handful of the thick red hair between her fingers, pulling threateningly but not enough to hurt. Yet.
"Let. Go." she warned through grit teeth, refusing to allow him to manhandle her further. "You were the one so hellbent on coming here from the get go, you will not make me a part of any freaky foot fetish you have or whatever in the hell your issue is. Now this is my last warning - release me or walk around with a bald spot, your decision."
He had the sudden, intense urge to bite her. It was so blinding, so powerful that he had to physically restrain himself from lurching forward to perform such an act. Still, the red-head couldn't stop his lips from pulling back to show his teeth, nor could he prevent the warning rumble which sounded low in his throat, and reverberated throughout his chest.
An animal. That's all Gaara was.
His grip on her ankle tightened, and his eyes slit dangerously.
"Release me." It wasn't a request. It was a threat.
She very nearly grinned at this point, seeing him so very not amused, nearly as much as she at the moment. Add in the fact that he was on his knees before her and she actually had some semblance of control for a change, Sakura did a little inner dance of glee while remaining cold and looming on the outside. But his threat did nothing to her, did not frighten her in the slightest. And even though she may have wanted nothing more then to kick off the detestable shoes and go curl up in bed, it was now a matter of pride and one more battle to be won.
"You first, pal."
Oh, damn it all! The growl turned into a snarl, something vicious and deeply primal. Gaara was practically bristling - the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as a chill raced down his spine. Defiance. Sweet, challenging defiance.
Her grip on his hair was still firm, but it didn't keep the red-head from lunging forward in a moment of blind rage. He wanted to hurt something - primarily her -, and no amount of outward pain would stop him. He opened his mouth wide, then latched onto her ankle with his teeth. His hand still held fast to her leg, but right now he was focused on digging in as deep as he could with his blunt teeth.
A loud yelp echoed through the silent apartment as Sakura watched in a state of disbelief, Gaara swooping down and latching onto her ankle like some sort of rabid animal. Automatically her fingers tightened their grip in retaliation, the common sense to release him as she tried to back away escaping her at the moment so that she was dragging him along briefly in her attempt to get away. This was remedied quick enough though and she all but threw his head away from her even as her foot reared back in an attempt to shake him off. It was more shock then pain, adrenaline shielding her like it seemed to in every encounter they shared, but she was jerking her foot about, not giving a damn what it collided with if only she could detach this weirdo from her leg.
Even still, when she finally did feel his jaws release her and the impact of her foot colliding with something, there was a distinct feeling of achievement all around.
His teeth weren't meant for such an activity. Though he still dug in with his blunt-but-slightly-sharp canines, really the only thing keeping Gaara attached was his grip on Sakura's flailing leg. He curled his fingers around her ankle, his other hand coming up to grip her knee in an effort to steady himself. She was adament, though, and seemed determined to shake him off. The feeling of flesh giving way beneath his teeth, and the slight taste of salt as his tongue undulated absently across her skin was enough to make this fruitless endeavor worth every moment.
... Even the moment when her foot finally jerked free, and she sent it flying forward to collide unceremoniously with his jaw.
Gaara jerked back, his body falling flush against the floor in an effort to dodge the attack. He was too late, though, and only ended up slamming his head harder into the carpet than he had intended. He blinked once, then slowly rose up again, a feral glint in his eyes.
Instinctively Sakura took a half a step backwards, her victory flickering away in that familiar panic that sent her barreling through the city less then an hour ago. For a moment she toyed with the idea of closing the distance before he could, to purposefully stroll over to him and nail him in the jaw for that all too short memory of him sprawled out and dazed on her floor.
Surely it wouldn't hurt for her to experience that about another half a dozen times now would it?
Sadly, common sense was making itself known, and rather then instigate any further violence, Sakura went reaching out blindly for something that could be used as a makeshift weapon, something that could be hurled if her unwanted houseguest decided he hadn't quite had enough yet.
And of course he hadn't had enough. Gaara was dazed, but that didn't override his instincts. The moment her hand shifted from its sedate position dangling by her body, the red-head scrambled back onto his feet. He didn't have enough time to stand up fully and restrain her, so he did the next best thing.
He brought her down to his level.
Using the force of gravity as a sort of anchor, the insomniac pushed forward, slamming his forehead straight into Sakura's waist. His hands wrapped around to grip at her hips, and in the next second he was dragging her downards in an effort to knock her against the floor. Down here, he would have the advantage of weight - slight as it was -, and position to overtake her. Gaara had more fighting experience than the medic, that much was obvious. She had gotten in a few hits earlier because he had been offguard and... admittedly... stupid. But that was simply how he reacted when rage took control of his senses.
Now, he was just as angry, but a little more controlled.
The impact was just enough to make Sakura lose her balance so that she easily followed through with the movements Gaara was guiding her through, only this time it was her head bouncing off the floor as she tried to figure out what in the hell had just happened. The small porcelain figurine she had been hoping to smash against the intruder's skull flopped out of her hand harmlessly, rolling off to the side still amazingly in one piece.
A pained groan rose from her chest, her hands immediately reaching up to assess the damage. She was far more worried about the probability of a concussion then attacking back at the moment, something else she could blame on that damnedable wooden floor.
Good. She wasn't fighting back. At least that was some form of improvement. Still, Gaara's body buzzed with the need to take out his incurable rage on some unsuspecting victim. Her swung a leg over her body, straddling her waist, and bent down to glower at her in a silent warning. If she struggled... Oh, if she struggled, he knew she wouldn't survive.
"Don't move," he whispered throatily, lifting up his hand to wrap around her throat. But before he reached her pale skin, the warmth of liquid red staining his fingers drew his attention. Was he bleeding? He didn't feel injured. Gaara took a moment to assess the damage on himself, not moving but only thinking to try and find some prick of pain in his body... besides his aching jaw.
He felt nothing.
Then that meant...
The red-head didn't move from his position atop Sakura. Instead, he moved down her body until his nose was directly adjacent with her hip. He could see the blood red seeping through the fabric of her pants.
Sakura was bleeding.
Of course with the soft, but no less harsh demand, Sakura wanted nothing more then to squirm away on pure principal. It was the wet glint of red on the hand looming towards her neck that stalled her movements, a perplexed look overtaking her irritation with the man currently making himself comfortable on top of her. Automatically light green eyes began to scan the form above her, the damp clothes making it even harder to discern where the blood flow was coming from. She had just been about to order him off of her so she could properly solve this mystery when Gaara suddenly moved, scooting down her frame and settling awkwardly at her waist. The odd positioning reminded her of an already forgotten scene with him on his knees before her (again), his fascination with torn flesh and garments making her want to squirm under the scrutiny.
And of course it didn't help matters that with this acknowledgment of it's existence, the wound began to sting in earnest, instinctively urging her to weasel away from probing fingers before they could start molesting her hip again.
"You can get off now, you know. We're both soaking wet and this floor isn't exactly comfortable."
He was ignoring her as usual. Instead of responding to her statement, Gaara focused on the bloodiest spot in her pants, his fingers sliding gently along the fabric around the stain. He bent over it, inspecting the dark red spot for a minute or so, inhaling the scent of it - blood, mixed with medical chemicals, rain, and her own unique scent.
"You're wounded." It was a simple, obvious fact, but it was almost as if stating it aloud helped to calm his own frenzied rage. Usually, when his prey was wounded, the red-head would drown in another flood of adrenaline, and finish off what he started. Sakura's injury seemed to have a different effect altogether. He was curious as to what she might taste like, and this nagging voice in the back of his head kept prompting him to fix the mess he had made of her leg.
... Now that urge was new.
Still, it was very pressing, and so with a primal sort of urgency, Gaara moved up Sakura's hip once again. Hooking his fingers around the edge of her pants, the red-head was intent on baring her cut so he could better repair it.
Gaara's usual disregard for her personal wishes was fast becoming the norm, not a practice Sakura was wanting to make habitual and she made her irritation known by shoving lightly at his shoulder (not wanting to anger the psychopath who obviously had the upper hand at the moment). Irritation that increased exponentially with the examining fingertips causing her to wince and try to scoot away, something nigh impossible with this weight settled on her lower half to keep her in place.
"How about telling me something I don't know? Something that always seems to happen with you in the nearby vicinity, I'd like to point out. And don't do that, it hurts," she grumbled, swatting at the annoying hand. But oh how quickly irritation turned to outright discomfort and distress when the curious examination of her cut changed drastically to slipping between chilled skin and clothing, the cool air of her apartment pimpling her skin briefly before she reached down to tug the waist of her pants back up those few inches. Her cheeks were flushed nearly the same hue as her hair and her face torn between shock, uneasiness and outright anger.
"What is the matter with you!" she sputtered, a hand firmly clamped on the waist of her scrubs while the other worked at trying to brace herself so that she could squirm away or at the very least, sit up so she could have some sort of bearing here.
A few inches of pale flesh were laid bare before the girl dragged her pants back upwards and over her hips. Now... that completely defeated the purpose here. He was trying to help her - and help himself, too, by getting a chance to better examine her beautiful blood -, and all she wanted to do was struggle.
Not productive at all.
He growled slightly in the back of his throat, and was about to rip her pants apart, if need be, when a thought struck him. So far, every forceful movement he made had been met with stubborn resistance. Perhaps she would better cooperate if he... did things a little differently?
"Your pants are blocking the wound. Take them off." Still, his words sounded like a command - he couldn't help it, really -, but they were toned down now, and a little softer.
For a moment Sakura could only gape at the brusque command, but soon enough Dr. Haruno reared her head and in return Sakura only shook hers in response.
"Blocking the wound is the least of my worries with you wanting to strip me. If you let me up, I can take care of it quick enough, then we wouldn't have to worry about you being a pervert and I don't have to worry about getting an infection. Everyone wins, so you can move anytime now. Really."
Her hand remained firmly clamped on her pants, a determined look on her face despite flushed cheeks, her discomfort with this scenario outweighing her irritation by far.
"Pervert?" He looked at her then, bright jade eyes studying her features; glancing across her cheeks, her mouth, then down to her throat before finally settling back onto her hip.
"I'm trying to help you." His said it almost grudgingly so, but not quite. Still that hint of... softness, that breath of gentleness.
It was only the obvious difference in his tone that stalled Sakura from trying to escape, seeing that there was some sort of sincerity in his words.
This was definitely something new.
Sakura pursed her lips together as she chewed this over, torn between pushing the issue further or just giving in this once. Her natural need for perfection, to make sure that things were done and done correctly, especially when it came to something like this, being that this was what she dealt with day in and day out - and something Gaara most certainly did not, unless he had some sort of medical license hidden in a back pocket somewhere. Staring up at him in silence for a few moments more, fighting internally with herself and weighing all of the pros and cons of the situation, and the likelihood that if she didn't comply she could very well be picking little shreds of her clothes out of her carpet for the next week, Sakura sighed in resignation and let her head fall off to the side, glaring at the baseboard that had been subjected to the redhead's odd search just minutes ago.
Success. For once, the pink-haired medic had found the will to comply, and for nearly a full ten seconds Gaara could do nothing but stop and stare at her in disbelief. He found it impossibly frustrating that, despite his threats and use of various form of intimidation, she wouldn't budge an inch, but give him a few moments and a few softly spoken words, and she relaxed considerably. It was annoying...
And intriguing at the same time.
He leaned down a bit, his forehead hovering just above the middle of Sakura's chest, listening to her breaths in an effort to gauge her emotional state at the moment. She wasn't completely relaxed, but at least she was finally complying to his demands, and that was more of an improvement than he had expected.
Back to the task at hand. Gaara pulled down again, his face eye-level with the wound at Sakura's hip. He slowly pulled down the fabric of her pants, inch by inch of pale skin revealed to his unworthy eyes. Though his gaze roamed over the medic's flesh, it was in a manner far from perverted or sexually aroused. In fact, the expression on his features was too stoic to be considered anything but aloof. It was by pure accident that his fingers brushed frequently along her revealed skin, though the contact sent a dangerous shivering running up his spine.
Hm. Interesting.
He tugged on the fabric lightly, pulling it to just below her wound, though far down enough to reveal her undergarment. Hm. Her pants were soaked with rain, and so they stuck to her flesh like a second skin. The going would be rough the rest of the way down, and the quickest solution would simply be to...
The sound of a metal shiiiing echoed throughout the room as Gaara snapped open the switchblade he carried in his pocket.
"It would be better to cut these off." At least he took the effort to explain his intentions.
Sakura's cheeks flamed with this oh so compromising position, the gentle touches and brushing of fingers doing absolutely nothing to calm her, exactly the opposite in fact. It was amazing the sheer heat from her embarrassment and uneasiness hadn't been enough to steam dry her clothes by now, a fact proven sadly as her pants were peeled away from her skin and earning a wince and a sharp intake of breath from the unwilling patient.
A sharp intake of breath that ended in a bit of a squeak when a freaking knife was pulled out of nowhere.
Gaara's words were lost in the roaring of adrenaline in her ears, she only saw the psycho with a knife in his hand -good intentions were lost in the knowledge of his capability with the weapon. Fingernails dug harshly into his shoulder as she tried to put some distance between her and the knife.
The absolute last thing Gaara needed right now was another struggle. He nearly winced as she clawed mercilessly at his shoulder - nearly -, but forced himself to keep that calm, collected expression on his face. He did, however, let a bit of annoyed apathy seep through the exterior. For once he was actually trying to help, instead of hurt, and this is how he was repayed? Fear and apprehension? Another fight?
At least she had spirit. He might have gotten bored with her by now, had she not been so... feisty. Like Anko, but different. This one was weak - strong, maybe, by a Ceno female's standards, but so easily breakable to someone who had grown up in the Red District. He could dominate her (He liked to ignore the fact that, in a fight with Anko, such a thing was extremely difficult to do.), and the heady sense of control was addicting.
Still, the struggling made parts of her body rub up against very... private areas. The shivers increased, to the point of visible now as his body quaked in an effort to reign in his self-control. Odd, how he had the strange urge to bite her neck, or smother her with the weight of his body. The dominant, primal side of him wanted to take over his actions, but the red-head fought back with everything within him.
"Stop that." The knife in his hand arched upwards to press threateningly against Sakura's throat. Habit.
The softest hitch of her breath was Sakura's only response, her struggles stopping immediately with the sharp bite of a blade against her throat. Slowly she dragged her eyes up to stare at the similar ones hovering above her, trying to figure out how to swallow without getting cut.
And he wondered why she began to fight again when that damned thing made its appearance.
She was so intent on the knife, she missed the subtle tremors from the body pinning her to the floor, or had mistaken them for her own - completely blind to anything but the knife, like the one that had found its way in that guy's esophagus just a little bit ago.
"Put it away and I won't move, I promise," she whispered, ready to promise the moon if it would get the knife away.
Any other time her fear would be amusing, but right now it only served to annoy him. His eyes darkened as he glanced from her face to her throat, pointedly sliding the flat of the cool metal blade along her jugular. Taunting. Teasing. Letting her knew just what he could do to her - letting her know that he was the one in control, even though his actions denoted subservience to her.
"You won't move regardless." It was a threat as cold as the icy look he shot her way. He held her eyes for a long moment, judging how much more of this she could take, then slowly pulled the knife back, letting it hover between their bodies to serve as a visual reminder of just what he was.
Another look, and then he snapped the blade closed, sliding it smoothly into his drenched pants pocket.
"Besides," His voice took on a note of teasing, even though he somehow managed to keep it as monotone as ever. "I don't cut what I'm trying to fix."
It took a lot of self control to not squeeze her eyes shut with the taunting, to try and not give Gaara any more fodder for his tormenting. Her breath came a lot easier though when the knife was moved away from her throat, despite the fact that the threat hadn't been completely removed altogether.
And yet still her eyes narrowed in irritation -an easy substitute for fear-, with his words. She did however, hold her tongue with any scathing comments that may have been lingering on the tip of her tongue, ever mindful of the knife that slowly disappeared from her line of sight. But that irritation faded away for pure confusion with the almost teasing tone...
He was slowly going to send her off the deep end trying to keep up with his mood swings - she was sure of it.
"You can't blame me for wondering. Your track record around me isn't exactly the greatest," she mumbled, having the good grace to flush a soft embarrassed pink with her assumption of his actions.
He shrugged at that. It wasn't like he expected her to trust him - only... maybe... to fear him a little less? No, that couldn't be it. He liked her fear.
Sometimes.
Shaking his head at these thoughts, Gaara rolled off to the side, relinquishing his dominating position above her in favor of a more comfortable position beside her. He sat cross legged on the floor, reaching into his pocket again to pull out the knife he had just put away. He clicked it open, then shut again, relishing in the sound it made. Open, and closed. Open, and closed. There was a hidden rhythm to his movements, his fingers working along the blade in gentle caresses; like a dancer's feet flirt with the stage they perform on.
It looked like he had lost himself in this simple routine, when suddenly his bright jade eyes snapped open to look at Sakura again.
"You should change." He couldn't reach her wound with those pants on.
Date: Late June 30th
Location: Streets of Celo, Sakura's apartment
Warnings/Notes: PG-13; Violence, language, blood, Gaara's general creepiness
Summary: A simple stroll home after a busy day at work goes terribly awry.
The low rumble of the man's chuckles vibrated through her prone form, sinister and something she was not used to dealing with when directed at her. Regardless of some of the less then savory characters she was used to dealing with, they'd left her alone and borderline respected her for her ability to piece them back together again. But right here, she was nothing but another warm body to be used and disposed of as this guy seemed fit and the utter hard-hitting reality of the situation would have buckled her knees if she could have been sure her neck wouldn't be snapped in the action.
Even still, she couldn't help but stiffen at the very proprietary way Gaara had laid claim to her - as if he had such a right.
Two breaths - one deep intake of air, one ragged sigh as it escaped his lips. One step back - more like a shifting of feet, turning slightly to where his left foot was positioned in front of his right, and his body was facing the other at a sideways angle. All small adjustments... all actions the murderer/rapist might have prevented had he known how fatal they could be.
Gaara didn't give the man any more warnings. Truthfully, he was kind of glad this stranger was so stubborn. It only meant more fun for him; more of an adrenaline rush.
The red-head crouched, then leaned forward, pushing off his right foot to lunge towards Sakura's attacker. He wouldn't be able to make it in time, if the man decided to go ahead with his silent threat, and snap the girl's neck, but Gaara had already predicted this outcome. Twisting the knife around in his hand so he could better grip the handle by the ends of his fingers, the insomniac raised his arm in a graceful arc, and flicked his wrist.
The sound of metal flying met his ears for a half-second, before a dull thunk signaled the knife's landing. Gaara smirked as he witnessed his own handiwork. The gleaming metal blade had just barely whizzed past Sakura's own captured head, and lodged itself into their attacker's neck. Not enough to seriously cripple, but hopefully enough to distract...
She'd still be bristling at the 'She's Mine' claim when she felt the air change about them slightly and the minute shifting of Gaara's stance. She couldn't read what was going on behind the slits of jade eyes that so intently focused on her captor, at this point she figured it was probably for the best that she couldn't...not with the murderous intent she was nearly choking on at the moment. Despite the fact that a small part of her wanted to severely hurt this guy who had dared to pull her into this situation, to even contemplate whatever it was going through his pea-sized brain in regards to her, feasibly she knew she didn't have the stomach for causing another pain.
Even though at this moment in time, she almost wished that she could.
Sakura's eyes remained locked on the silent form in front of her and her breath caught in her throat when she saw the slight shifting of muscles. Eyes squeezed tightly shut so she couldn't see whatever was coming, waiting for something whether it was her untimely demise with her captor having reached his limit with her or whatever was about to happen. There was the shifting of air as something slid just by her cheek and the sudden jerking of the body behind her, a liquid heat that warmed her shoulder as it spread even as a raspy gasp echoed loudly in her ear as the tight grip on her loosened noticeably.
There was no thought to what he did next. There was but the moment, and what action needed to be taken to insure his survival. Gaara's eyes were hazed over with the thrill of the hunt. He still saw everything going on around him - the adrenaline pumping through his veins heightened his senses dramatically -, but his focus just happened to be on the man whose blood he had shed.
His forward momentum was unstoppable and unchangeable. The red-head still lunged for the man in front of him...
... It just so happened that Sakura was between him and his target.
That was but a minor setback, though, in the grand scheme of things. The feel of her flesh colliding with his chest barely registered in his mind. At the moment, the medic was nothing more than a wall to be pushed through.
And push through he did. Gaara gripped Sakura's shoulders for a half second, slamming her back into their attacker, which in turn slammed him back into the brick wall of the alleyway. A low rumble sounded in the back of the red-head's throat as he pressed even closer, veritably trapping Sakura between both of their bodies. He reached up, his lips brushing along the girl's jaw as he tilted his head to better glare at the man behind her.
"I'll kill you."
The menace in his tone was punctuated by the sickening sound of metal ripping through skin, as Gaara pulled his knife from the other's neck.
Sakura had been a split second away from falling away from this hellish nightmare when a not so gentle shove sent her tripping backwards, the breathing wall behind her cushioning the impact only slightly. There was no room for protest or outrage, no time for it really before there was another body holding her into place, sandwiching herinbetween two obvious psychopaths. Somehow she managed to wedge her hand between her and Gaara, his heart beat obvious under her palm, in an attempt to shove him away but her action was stalled with the soft threat she had heard quite a few times in their conversations. This time however, there was no doubt that each word was meant to the fullest extent and thankfully they weren't even directed at her, not that it stopped the shiver that snaked down her spine.
Nor the strangled whimper that escaped unchecked from her lips at the disgusting tear of flesh all too close to her ear.
Perhaps she should have listened to her father and stayed in the Blue District after all, there would have been no chance of this sort of thing happening there.
His heart was beating faster - he barely registered the sudden warmth that had been placed over his chest. Instead, his cold jade gaze was fixated on the man just behind Sakura. It was obvious his threats weren't mere folly - he would kill this man, this would-be attacker. The scent of his blood was already tantalizing his senses, making the red-head crave to spill even more of that life-giving liquid.
... No matter the shaking girl who was currently trapped in the middle of this madness.
Fondling the hilt of the blade, he let his hands readjust to its familiar weight. He was contemplating what to do next - whether to slit the man's throat right now, or gouge out his eyes first and let him suffer -, when a sudden movement caught his attention.
Before the stranger could wrap his hand around Sakura's throat, like he intended, Gaara shoved the knife into his side, deep enough to hit bone. It made the other freeze, shocked by the intense pain, and then...
The gut-wrenching scream which issued forth from his lips was guttural and choked enough to sound nearly demonic. Gaara smirked at his handiwork, eyes brightening with a mad glint.
"Your blood is filthy..." he leaned in, resting his chin on Sakura's shoulder as he preceded to taunt the man further. Twisting the knife while it was still embedded in the other's flesh, he trailed his hand up so his fingers could smear along the blood still dripping from the other's neck.
"... But so very warm."
A pause, and then, "... Tell me. How would you like to die?"
Sakura's eyes clenched tightly shut with surprising wail of pain that nearly deafened her, her ear being entirely too close to the source for her own comfort. Her brain was running on a constant loop of distress as it had since this entire debacle had started but the body almost writhing in agony turned her stomach nearly as much as the thought of those meaty hands roaming freely over her hip. The soft seductive whispers of death that were being purred from her secondary antagonist surely weren't helping matters either.
The speed of Gaara's heart increased, she assumed it was with his increasing excitement with this little psychotic episode. With him resting on her shoulder she couldn't see his face - a small fact she was glad for. Her opinion of this man was already rather skewed and at this particular moment it would probably be her breaking point. Weakly she tried to push Gaara away, the sadistic promises of pain echoing as loudly as the thug's screams. Another sharp jerk and whimper from behind her brought forth a little more strength to her efforts but she was finding him to be immovable.
"Stop," she whispered, her first word since this ordeal began that wasn't muffled by the other's hand. "Please, just stop..."
Gaara was nearly completely engulfed in the bloodlust which hazed his mind. The fear, the adrenaline... it surrounded him, suffocated him, until the only way to find relief from this crushing pain was to take out some of the pressure on another's unwilling body. Slowly, he was devolving from wanting to kill this man... to needing to kill this man.
And nothing... absolutely nothing could stop hi-
The silent pressure against his chest hadn't been enough to catch his attention, but the softly spoken, near-desperate words were enough to make the air come rushing out of his lungs. He pulled back slightly and shifted his heavy jade gaze onto the girl trapped between them, the look on his face twisting into an imitation of a scowl. He might have growled in warning, had the oxygen not completely left his body. After a few moments, his chest began to ache, yet it seemed he had forgotten how tobreat-
No. When he finally seemed to comprehend Sakura's pleas, the air came rushing back to him in an audible gasp. Trapped between the need for murderous intent, and wanting to see her, wanting his control back, Gaara struggled to keep his focus on the girl... and struggled to tear his attention away.
As if the heavy exhale wasn't enough of a hint, the physical stepping back gave her the needed sign to say that her plea had been heard at the very least. Turning her gaze from the ground and up to that interesting mix of impassiveness and something almost bestial staring down at her, almost as if he were seeing her for the first time.
"Just stop, he's not going to do anything else." Briefly she wondered why she was even trying - it wasn't as if Gaara was going to listen to her opinion of the matter, if the guy was even going to survive what had already been done to him anyway. Even without her tools and instruments, she could easily hear the aspirating blood slowly filling the man's lungs, the pained whimpers that could barely be made out with the gurgle of blood. She pressed forward gently, hoping this distinct contrast would help draw even more of his attention to her despite the fact that would have been the last thing she could have possibly wanted not ten minutes ago. Just like she had very much wished to have been able to fight back, to hurt her attacker in some way, the reality of the situation was far worse then whatever she could have come up with.
Not to mention Sakura really didn't think she could live with someone else's blood on her hands. Someone who died in her care was one thing, people came to her for her to fix them. But she was never the one to have caused the injuries.
"He's been incapacitated, you do not have to do anymore, please? Just step back and let him go..."
It was very hard for him to focus beyond the blood steadily spilling from his victim's wounds, and turn the force of his frantic senses on the girl currently trying to redirect his attention. The soft press of her body against his chest distracted him further, but it was a hard battle when the man's choked cries were just so tempting.
"I... can't," Gaara whispered hoarsely, and it was very much the truth.
As if he couldn't control his movements, in one swift motion he leaned forward - not pushing Sakura back, but engulfing her with his very presence -, and pulled the knife out one more time, swinging it in a low, graceful arc and letting the blade slice deep into the skin of the other mans' lower thigh.
Unfortunately, the medic was in the way of this motion, as well, and he happened to cut a thin line along her hip - not enough to fatally wound, but surely enough to make her bleed. Gaara was cut short by this action - usually his aiming wasn't so shoddy -, and paused in the inevitable slaughter of the man once again, opting to stare trans-fixedly at the pink-haired girl's wound. He swiped his tongue along his lower lip once, slowly, in a show of deranged bloodlust, and it seemed he had finally found a distraction worth grasping for.
Sakura.
A small gasp escaped from her throat with the sudden surge forward, not being able to stop herself from cringing at the second wretched sound of flesh being torn with the displacement of the knife. For a brief moment Sakura's heartlept up into her throat.
Her pleas for the other man had only turned Gaara's attention to her - something she had been seeking, but not in this manner! She could almost see the bloodied knife being raised only to find itself in her throat this time, something to silence her for good rather then allowing her to continue speaking like with their last meeting. Which would be why her only reaction to the knife grazing her hip was only met by a sharp intake of breath, her hip being a safe distance away from her throat, thank goodness. Adrenalin helped to keep any associated pain at by while Sakura took this saving grace as permission to continue negotiations, her hand easing over to where Gaara's still tightly clenched around the bloody knife. Her fingers slickly slid over his own, trying gently to get a grip on the weapon to try and get it away while he seemed so distracted.
"You can," she pressed softly, her fingers moving firmly to dislodge the weapon. Her actions halted momentarily when the formerly unmovable wall behind her suddenly slumped against her back. Slowly the guy slid down to the rain-wet ground, very nearly dragging Sakura down with him with her being pinned between the two. No surprise there, with all the blood staining the three of them it had only been a matter of time really.
At least he was still breathing, laboriously, but still breathing nonetheless.
"See? He's already down. There's no reason to keep doing this."
His prey... was down. Gaara wasn't a vulture... he was a lion. If it wasn't a fresh kill... if he couldn't feel the blood seep through his own hands and hear his victim's tortured cries... then it was barely worth the effort. Still... he needed so badly to feel that warm crimson liquid playing across his fingers... he needed that sense of touch that he could tolerate, that sense of closeness that he could stand.
Shuddering, the red-head closed his eyes, dark black bruises covering up the space where bright jade had been. He leaned forward a bit more, forcing back the urge to convulse at the warmth radiating from the girl in front of him. Tilting his head down, he breathed deeply, taking in the scent of her hair, and of the blood splatter across her form.
The blood...
It was a movement too sudden for even him to comprehend. One moment he was standing upright before Sakura... the next, he was on his knees in front of her, one hand steadying itself on her waist, the other brushing softly along the ripped fabric of her hospital-issued scrubs. He dipped his thumb through the rip, letting it rub along her skin, just short of brushing the actual wound. The smear of blood this motion caused was nearly intoxicating.
"You're bleeding." His words were soft, almost reverent, as he continued to play almost absently with the droplets of blood red that fell from the cut, his hand stroking her hip in what would have been a sensually provocative manner, had he been thinking along those terms.
Just when Sakura was so sure things couldn't get any more traumatic or even just weirder then it had been just seconds prior - things just kept throwing her for a loop. It was honestly hard to say which was more disturbing at the moment, the fact that she was holding the instrument of torture, the blood and gore staining her fingers - or the fact that Gaara seemed to have done a morbid 360 and was now intent on molesting her hip.
What higher power did she anger so to deserve this sort of thing?
The knife fell from her fingers and clattered to the concrete as she mentally debated on her next course of action. He wasn't really doing anything that terrible, he was actually pretty tolerable when he was focused like this almost like a child with a new toy. Breaking him from his trance would possibly bring down his wrath on her and the cycle of violence would begin all over again - and Sakura was too exhausted to go running through anymore dark alleyways that night. The rain had yet to let up, they were both soaked through completely with the added bonus of blood seeping through their clothing. A sudden flashback of Gaara leaning forward to lick away the blood that had been the result of his taunting during that wretched incident in the elevator came back to haunt Sakura, that same fascination was here now and Sakura wasn't about to wait and see if he would attempt to do the same again.
Not with the adrenaline wearing off and it starting to burn like hell, something his stroking was doing nothing to ease.
"Come on, we need to get out of here," she urged quietly, reaching down to simply lay her hand on the wrist holding her in place. "If you don't argue, we can go to my place and get you dried out and warmed up, ok?
Gaara pulled his hand away from the wound at Sakura's insistence, smearing the sticky blood around his fingers with his thumb. It was still pouring the rain, cold drops beating down on his back as he continued to stare almost dazedly at the lovely cut in front of him. A thin line of raised flesh, highlighted in bright red; a smear of dark crimson spread around the cut, the shadows of the torn fabric only outlining it - giving it definition.
Something tightened in his chest, and he flinched back, straightening up almost too abruptly. It took more effort than he would like to admit to tear his gaze away from the medic's wounded hip, and focus once again on her face. Both of them looked ragged, soaked to the bone, but at least they were better off than the two injured men currently huddled on the alleyway floor.
It wasn't in Gaara's nature to not finish off a kill, but he found himself nodding anyways. He would comply... for now. But only because it would serve his original intentions of getting those annoying stitches out of his skin.
A soft sigh of relief breezed between Sakura's lips with the almost too easily given agreement, but far be it for her to look a gift horse in the mouth. Refusing to look at the two fallen men (as difficult as that was for her), Sakura bent down to pick up her discarded bag and started back towards her apartment - kind of ironic that she had been doing everything she could to avoid this just minutes before. But if it was this or someone's death on her hands, Sakura would take the invasion of her private habitat any day.
If it became that big of an issue, she could always just relocate back to Ceno with her parents.
Tossing a quick glance over her shoulder every so often, they walked in relative silence back to her sanctuary, Sakura too wary of saying anything that might break this odd truce too early. Only when they reached the steps leading to her building did she even pause, knowing that after this moment there was nothing stopping this weirdo from camping out on her doorstep - something not that unlikely since he'd apparently been watching her enough to know some key behaviors of hers. She chewed this thought over on their way up the staircase (no way in hell was the elevator even an option), finally coming to a decision just as she laid her hand on the door knob.
"Before you go any further, you need to know that there are going to be a few ground rules here. Just because I'm letting you in now, does not give you an open ended invitation. Got it?"
Gaara took those silent moments walking towards her apartment to reorganize his scattered mind. The rain washed away the traces of madness from his face - from his hands, too, as pale pink dripped almost lazily off his fingertips, the results of his recent battle cleansed from his skin.
He smirked slightly at her obvious avoidance of the elevator, but didn't comment. He was so very close to his goal right now... it would have been idiocy to rile the girl up for no reason. Not yet, at least.
"You live here?" He was quite obviously ignoring her questions, opting to breeze past them with a question of his own. An obvious one, of course, but he needed to make certain she wasn't lying to him through the motions of her body. Stopping at someone else's door and explaining these things before getting to her own place... that would have been clever.
Gaara was too paranoid to assume the best of this person.
For a moment Sakura silently congratulated herself for a job well done in not immediately letting herself inside, because for at least this brief moment, she held the upper hand.
Something that helped keep the guilt shoved away at their mutually saturated state - something that would not be rectified until she got what she wanted. Pity that it appeared he was going to act exactly how she figured that he would and try and bypass her.
Not. Happening.
"This would be my building, but that's all you're getting out of me until I'm sure that you understand how I am not playing with you. You surely don't see me stalking you outside of your place, do you? I'm asking for the same courtesy here. Obnoxious brute that you are, it's not that hard of a concept for you to grasp, now is it?" Her condescending tone was only emphasized with her arms crossed stubbornly over her chest, trying to appear the stern, in-control woman that she liked to believe that she was. Even if she was little more then a drenched rat at the moment, her hair lying limply over her shoulders and her clothes clinging tightly to her skin.
She could only thank the heavens for her jacket for all the good that it did, else the weirdo be given some sort of show with her very white uniform being little more then transparent with the addition of rain.
Of course she lived here. It was obvious by the protective stance she had taken up in front of the door - arms crossed, feet spread slightly apart in an attempt to make her body more like a wall than the weak little waif that it was. If this was someone else's apartment, then she would have been more apt to lean to the side, or take up the exact same stance in front of the hallway, as a means to keep him from lurking further into a place where her main territory resided.
Slitting his eyes (Gaara wasn't used to being talked down to in such a way. He usually just killed people who would dare do such a thing.), the red-head took a step closer, his drenched body lessening the intimidating stance he took up (Still threatening, despite the way his black shirt clung to his body, accentuating the thinness of his form.).
"Open the door."
Sakura drew herself up to her full 5'6" and glared him down like she would some recalcitrant child. This wasn't working like she had anticipated.
"No. Even if this was my place, I wouldn't. Not until you give me your word. I'm not going any further until you agree to my terms. Waking up in the middle of the night to have you lurking nearby and watching me sleep is not exactly my idea of a good time. You promise or we're not going any farther then right here."
He smirked, taking a quick step forward. He defiance was amusing... but he wouldn't tolerate it for long. Shooting his arm forward, Gaara gripped the handle of the door just behind Sakura in an iron grip, jiggling it back and forth for a moment too confirm that it was indeed locked.
Hn. Not much good that would do.
Leaning in, the red-head twisted the knob to the far right, then jerked it to the left as far as it would go. Nothing. He leaned in further, his chin nudging up against the side of Sakura's head, his chest inches away from her own - so close he could feel the muggy heat radiating from her body. A soft shudder passed through him, and he growled slightly, turning bright jade eyes onto the medic as if this little reaction was her fault.
Growling, he twisted the knob one more time, and pressed forward in the same moment, effectively trapping the pink-haired girl between him and the door. That moment of imprisonment didn't last, though, as the lock finally gave way and the door swung open before them.
It was something she couldn't wrap her mind around. The fact that Gaara apparently had enough personal space issues that she had ended up slammed into an elevator wall, but not enough that she continually found herself in entirely too many up close and personal scenarios. She really couldn't differentiate if her cheeks were flaming due to the sheer audacity of this guy trying to enter an apartment that didn't belong to him, her apartment though she wasn't ready to admit to that just yet or the fact that she could easily feel his body heat steaming through their damp clothes as he pinned her against the door. The traitorous door that gave way under his manipulation of the doorknob (not that Sakura had ever done the same thing when bogged down with an armload of groceries and her keys were not easily reachable), and sent her heart into palpitations with this breech of her sanctuary.
"You can't do that! What if people are home, you can't just go barging into someone's home!" she fumed, one hand reaching out to grasp at the wrist that had just pushed open the door, trying to restrain him from crossing the threshold, her other hand reaching up to brace against his chest. She stepped forward, pushing him in the process to try and keep him in the hallway, trying to keep him away from her one place she could really hide away.
Her pleas may as well have fallen on deaf ears. Gaara was stubborn and unmovable, his eyes shifting from her angry face to the room beyond; taking in his surroundings, studying the room for any hint or clue of government activity.
Ah, so she was still keeping up the charade, was she? A quick sweep of the far wall shot her little lie out of the water. There was a neat little picture frame sitting atop a simple wooden desk that stood directly in his line of sight. The girl in the picture frame was unmistakable - who else had such striking pink hair and emerald green eyes? Two insignificant people stood to either side of her - he parents, most likely -, and it was proof enough that Gaara had stormed into the right place.
So his destination had been chosen correctly. Now, to scope out the place for anything threatening.
He shook free of Sakura's hold, side-stepping her to push past the doorway and into the room beyond.
The breathlessness that had existed with him pinning her against the door came back in a full rush as he stepped over her out of place Welcome mat, something that she had left out in an attempt to make the place a little homier - not as an open invitation for some weirdo to come barging into her personal space and walk around like he owned the place. For a brief moment Sakura wanted nothing more then to stomp her foot and throw a temper tantrum like none other with this open defiance of her wishes, but the adult in her chose to instead follow him in to make sure he didn't desecrate her home.
She sure as hell wasn't about to offer coffee and snacks to make him feel like a welcome guest.
Sulking slightly, she finally gave up with the charade that this wasn't her home, letting her purse and things fall wearily onto a nearby chair as she toed off her shoes.
"Ju-...Just don't touch anything, alright? And don't make yourself too comfortable. You're only here until the rain stops."
"Hm." He at least offered some kind of reply to her demands. Not that he would follow them, of course. Instead of settling in like it seemed she expected he would do, Gaara began a thorough search of her apartment, turning over things here, taking pictures off the wall and checking their backs for any kind of bugging device. Had the government placed tracking devices in her purse or shoes? He would check that next.
After a few moments of searching around the main room for something akin to a camera, the red-head got down on all fours and studied the base trim around her walls. Nothing so far, that was good. He lifted up the edges of her carpet, then rose slightly to stalk over to her couch. Crouching, he ran his hand his hand along the underside, feeling for some kind of bump or groove that would hint at an electrical device. Nothing.
Good. So her house wasn't bugged.
Now the question was... Was she bugged?
Gaara finally turned towards the pink-haired medic, a suspicious look darkening his eyes.
"Take your shoes off."
She had only gotten her one shoe halfway off when she watched Gaara crouch down and start groping her baseboard. The oddness of the situation had her pausing in her movements to watch curiously as he examined random items and then even lifted up her carpet - what in the hell was he looking for?
Completely perplexed with the unorthodox search, the order didn't immediately register in her brain but when it did, her foot was jammed right back into the sodden shoe in mutiny.
"What is your malfunction? You come barging into my home, feel up my things and now you're telling me what to do? We need to get a few things straight if you think I'm going to allow this, before you find yourself out on your ass in the rain." Her jaw set as she glowered down at him, trying to appear completely unmovable and stern, something to try and break through so that he wouldn't keep pushing her and her wants aside.
Ah, so she was going to be difficult, again? The fact that she refused only heightened his suspicions. It was likely she refused him because she had something to hide...
It was also just as likely she refused him because she was nearly as stubborn as the red-head. Still, he pushed this more logical thought aside in favor of his own paranoid reasoning. Gaara didn't trust anyone. It was as simple as that. If she would but cooperate with him a little bit, it would make this whole ordeal a little more bearable. At the moment, though, he found it difficult to hold in his growl of frustration at her hardheadedness.
Gaara didn't bother with words. Words would only prolong the monotony of the situation.
In half a moment, he was crouched before her, body tensed and ready for a fight. The red-head grabbed her ankle, intent on forcefully removing her shoes, yet still completely aware of the fact that, because of his position, she could kick him at any moment.
What was it with this guy?! Sakura very nearly lost her balance with the sudden grip on her ankle, green eyes wide as she reached out to brace herself against the wall before she could topple over onto her rear - the slick soles of her shoes barely holding onto the aged wooden floors as it were. Having reached the end of her patience back in the alleyway where this all began, Sakura reached down and snatched a handful of the thick red hair between her fingers, pulling threateningly but not enough to hurt. Yet.
"Let. Go." she warned through grit teeth, refusing to allow him to manhandle her further. "You were the one so hellbent on coming here from the get go, you will not make me a part of any freaky foot fetish you have or whatever in the hell your issue is. Now this is my last warning - release me or walk around with a bald spot, your decision."
He had the sudden, intense urge to bite her. It was so blinding, so powerful that he had to physically restrain himself from lurching forward to perform such an act. Still, the red-head couldn't stop his lips from pulling back to show his teeth, nor could he prevent the warning rumble which sounded low in his throat, and reverberated throughout his chest.
An animal. That's all Gaara was.
His grip on her ankle tightened, and his eyes slit dangerously.
"Release me." It wasn't a request. It was a threat.
She very nearly grinned at this point, seeing him so very not amused, nearly as much as she at the moment. Add in the fact that he was on his knees before her and she actually had some semblance of control for a change, Sakura did a little inner dance of glee while remaining cold and looming on the outside. But his threat did nothing to her, did not frighten her in the slightest. And even though she may have wanted nothing more then to kick off the detestable shoes and go curl up in bed, it was now a matter of pride and one more battle to be won.
"You first, pal."
Oh, damn it all! The growl turned into a snarl, something vicious and deeply primal. Gaara was practically bristling - the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as a chill raced down his spine. Defiance. Sweet, challenging defiance.
Her grip on his hair was still firm, but it didn't keep the red-head from lunging forward in a moment of blind rage. He wanted to hurt something - primarily her -, and no amount of outward pain would stop him. He opened his mouth wide, then latched onto her ankle with his teeth. His hand still held fast to her leg, but right now he was focused on digging in as deep as he could with his blunt teeth.
A loud yelp echoed through the silent apartment as Sakura watched in a state of disbelief, Gaara swooping down and latching onto her ankle like some sort of rabid animal. Automatically her fingers tightened their grip in retaliation, the common sense to release him as she tried to back away escaping her at the moment so that she was dragging him along briefly in her attempt to get away. This was remedied quick enough though and she all but threw his head away from her even as her foot reared back in an attempt to shake him off. It was more shock then pain, adrenaline shielding her like it seemed to in every encounter they shared, but she was jerking her foot about, not giving a damn what it collided with if only she could detach this weirdo from her leg.
Even still, when she finally did feel his jaws release her and the impact of her foot colliding with something, there was a distinct feeling of achievement all around.
His teeth weren't meant for such an activity. Though he still dug in with his blunt-but-slightly-sharp canines, really the only thing keeping Gaara attached was his grip on Sakura's flailing leg. He curled his fingers around her ankle, his other hand coming up to grip her knee in an effort to steady himself. She was adament, though, and seemed determined to shake him off. The feeling of flesh giving way beneath his teeth, and the slight taste of salt as his tongue undulated absently across her skin was enough to make this fruitless endeavor worth every moment.
... Even the moment when her foot finally jerked free, and she sent it flying forward to collide unceremoniously with his jaw.
Gaara jerked back, his body falling flush against the floor in an effort to dodge the attack. He was too late, though, and only ended up slamming his head harder into the carpet than he had intended. He blinked once, then slowly rose up again, a feral glint in his eyes.
Instinctively Sakura took a half a step backwards, her victory flickering away in that familiar panic that sent her barreling through the city less then an hour ago. For a moment she toyed with the idea of closing the distance before he could, to purposefully stroll over to him and nail him in the jaw for that all too short memory of him sprawled out and dazed on her floor.
Surely it wouldn't hurt for her to experience that about another half a dozen times now would it?
Sadly, common sense was making itself known, and rather then instigate any further violence, Sakura went reaching out blindly for something that could be used as a makeshift weapon, something that could be hurled if her unwanted houseguest decided he hadn't quite had enough yet.
And of course he hadn't had enough. Gaara was dazed, but that didn't override his instincts. The moment her hand shifted from its sedate position dangling by her body, the red-head scrambled back onto his feet. He didn't have enough time to stand up fully and restrain her, so he did the next best thing.
He brought her down to his level.
Using the force of gravity as a sort of anchor, the insomniac pushed forward, slamming his forehead straight into Sakura's waist. His hands wrapped around to grip at her hips, and in the next second he was dragging her downards in an effort to knock her against the floor. Down here, he would have the advantage of weight - slight as it was -, and position to overtake her. Gaara had more fighting experience than the medic, that much was obvious. She had gotten in a few hits earlier because he had been offguard and... admittedly... stupid. But that was simply how he reacted when rage took control of his senses.
Now, he was just as angry, but a little more controlled.
The impact was just enough to make Sakura lose her balance so that she easily followed through with the movements Gaara was guiding her through, only this time it was her head bouncing off the floor as she tried to figure out what in the hell had just happened. The small porcelain figurine she had been hoping to smash against the intruder's skull flopped out of her hand harmlessly, rolling off to the side still amazingly in one piece.
A pained groan rose from her chest, her hands immediately reaching up to assess the damage. She was far more worried about the probability of a concussion then attacking back at the moment, something else she could blame on that damnedable wooden floor.
Good. She wasn't fighting back. At least that was some form of improvement. Still, Gaara's body buzzed with the need to take out his incurable rage on some unsuspecting victim. Her swung a leg over her body, straddling her waist, and bent down to glower at her in a silent warning. If she struggled... Oh, if she struggled, he knew she wouldn't survive.
"Don't move," he whispered throatily, lifting up his hand to wrap around her throat. But before he reached her pale skin, the warmth of liquid red staining his fingers drew his attention. Was he bleeding? He didn't feel injured. Gaara took a moment to assess the damage on himself, not moving but only thinking to try and find some prick of pain in his body... besides his aching jaw.
He felt nothing.
Then that meant...
The red-head didn't move from his position atop Sakura. Instead, he moved down her body until his nose was directly adjacent with her hip. He could see the blood red seeping through the fabric of her pants.
Sakura was bleeding.
Of course with the soft, but no less harsh demand, Sakura wanted nothing more then to squirm away on pure principal. It was the wet glint of red on the hand looming towards her neck that stalled her movements, a perplexed look overtaking her irritation with the man currently making himself comfortable on top of her. Automatically light green eyes began to scan the form above her, the damp clothes making it even harder to discern where the blood flow was coming from. She had just been about to order him off of her so she could properly solve this mystery when Gaara suddenly moved, scooting down her frame and settling awkwardly at her waist. The odd positioning reminded her of an already forgotten scene with him on his knees before her (again), his fascination with torn flesh and garments making her want to squirm under the scrutiny.
And of course it didn't help matters that with this acknowledgment of it's existence, the wound began to sting in earnest, instinctively urging her to weasel away from probing fingers before they could start molesting her hip again.
"You can get off now, you know. We're both soaking wet and this floor isn't exactly comfortable."
He was ignoring her as usual. Instead of responding to her statement, Gaara focused on the bloodiest spot in her pants, his fingers sliding gently along the fabric around the stain. He bent over it, inspecting the dark red spot for a minute or so, inhaling the scent of it - blood, mixed with medical chemicals, rain, and her own unique scent.
"You're wounded." It was a simple, obvious fact, but it was almost as if stating it aloud helped to calm his own frenzied rage. Usually, when his prey was wounded, the red-head would drown in another flood of adrenaline, and finish off what he started. Sakura's injury seemed to have a different effect altogether. He was curious as to what she might taste like, and this nagging voice in the back of his head kept prompting him to fix the mess he had made of her leg.
... Now that urge was new.
Still, it was very pressing, and so with a primal sort of urgency, Gaara moved up Sakura's hip once again. Hooking his fingers around the edge of her pants, the red-head was intent on baring her cut so he could better repair it.
Gaara's usual disregard for her personal wishes was fast becoming the norm, not a practice Sakura was wanting to make habitual and she made her irritation known by shoving lightly at his shoulder (not wanting to anger the psychopath who obviously had the upper hand at the moment). Irritation that increased exponentially with the examining fingertips causing her to wince and try to scoot away, something nigh impossible with this weight settled on her lower half to keep her in place.
"How about telling me something I don't know? Something that always seems to happen with you in the nearby vicinity, I'd like to point out. And don't do that, it hurts," she grumbled, swatting at the annoying hand. But oh how quickly irritation turned to outright discomfort and distress when the curious examination of her cut changed drastically to slipping between chilled skin and clothing, the cool air of her apartment pimpling her skin briefly before she reached down to tug the waist of her pants back up those few inches. Her cheeks were flushed nearly the same hue as her hair and her face torn between shock, uneasiness and outright anger.
"What is the matter with you!" she sputtered, a hand firmly clamped on the waist of her scrubs while the other worked at trying to brace herself so that she could squirm away or at the very least, sit up so she could have some sort of bearing here.
A few inches of pale flesh were laid bare before the girl dragged her pants back upwards and over her hips. Now... that completely defeated the purpose here. He was trying to help her - and help himself, too, by getting a chance to better examine her beautiful blood -, and all she wanted to do was struggle.
Not productive at all.
He growled slightly in the back of his throat, and was about to rip her pants apart, if need be, when a thought struck him. So far, every forceful movement he made had been met with stubborn resistance. Perhaps she would better cooperate if he... did things a little differently?
"Your pants are blocking the wound. Take them off." Still, his words sounded like a command - he couldn't help it, really -, but they were toned down now, and a little softer.
For a moment Sakura could only gape at the brusque command, but soon enough Dr. Haruno reared her head and in return Sakura only shook hers in response.
"Blocking the wound is the least of my worries with you wanting to strip me. If you let me up, I can take care of it quick enough, then we wouldn't have to worry about you being a pervert and I don't have to worry about getting an infection. Everyone wins, so you can move anytime now. Really."
Her hand remained firmly clamped on her pants, a determined look on her face despite flushed cheeks, her discomfort with this scenario outweighing her irritation by far.
"Pervert?" He looked at her then, bright jade eyes studying her features; glancing across her cheeks, her mouth, then down to her throat before finally settling back onto her hip.
"I'm trying to help you." His said it almost grudgingly so, but not quite. Still that hint of... softness, that breath of gentleness.
It was only the obvious difference in his tone that stalled Sakura from trying to escape, seeing that there was some sort of sincerity in his words.
This was definitely something new.
Sakura pursed her lips together as she chewed this over, torn between pushing the issue further or just giving in this once. Her natural need for perfection, to make sure that things were done and done correctly, especially when it came to something like this, being that this was what she dealt with day in and day out - and something Gaara most certainly did not, unless he had some sort of medical license hidden in a back pocket somewhere. Staring up at him in silence for a few moments more, fighting internally with herself and weighing all of the pros and cons of the situation, and the likelihood that if she didn't comply she could very well be picking little shreds of her clothes out of her carpet for the next week, Sakura sighed in resignation and let her head fall off to the side, glaring at the baseboard that had been subjected to the redhead's odd search just minutes ago.
Success. For once, the pink-haired medic had found the will to comply, and for nearly a full ten seconds Gaara could do nothing but stop and stare at her in disbelief. He found it impossibly frustrating that, despite his threats and use of various form of intimidation, she wouldn't budge an inch, but give him a few moments and a few softly spoken words, and she relaxed considerably. It was annoying...
And intriguing at the same time.
He leaned down a bit, his forehead hovering just above the middle of Sakura's chest, listening to her breaths in an effort to gauge her emotional state at the moment. She wasn't completely relaxed, but at least she was finally complying to his demands, and that was more of an improvement than he had expected.
Back to the task at hand. Gaara pulled down again, his face eye-level with the wound at Sakura's hip. He slowly pulled down the fabric of her pants, inch by inch of pale skin revealed to his unworthy eyes. Though his gaze roamed over the medic's flesh, it was in a manner far from perverted or sexually aroused. In fact, the expression on his features was too stoic to be considered anything but aloof. It was by pure accident that his fingers brushed frequently along her revealed skin, though the contact sent a dangerous shivering running up his spine.
Hm. Interesting.
He tugged on the fabric lightly, pulling it to just below her wound, though far down enough to reveal her undergarment. Hm. Her pants were soaked with rain, and so they stuck to her flesh like a second skin. The going would be rough the rest of the way down, and the quickest solution would simply be to...
The sound of a metal shiiiing echoed throughout the room as Gaara snapped open the switchblade he carried in his pocket.
"It would be better to cut these off." At least he took the effort to explain his intentions.
Sakura's cheeks flamed with this oh so compromising position, the gentle touches and brushing of fingers doing absolutely nothing to calm her, exactly the opposite in fact. It was amazing the sheer heat from her embarrassment and uneasiness hadn't been enough to steam dry her clothes by now, a fact proven sadly as her pants were peeled away from her skin and earning a wince and a sharp intake of breath from the unwilling patient.
A sharp intake of breath that ended in a bit of a squeak when a freaking knife was pulled out of nowhere.
Gaara's words were lost in the roaring of adrenaline in her ears, she only saw the psycho with a knife in his hand -good intentions were lost in the knowledge of his capability with the weapon. Fingernails dug harshly into his shoulder as she tried to put some distance between her and the knife.
The absolute last thing Gaara needed right now was another struggle. He nearly winced as she clawed mercilessly at his shoulder - nearly -, but forced himself to keep that calm, collected expression on his face. He did, however, let a bit of annoyed apathy seep through the exterior. For once he was actually trying to help, instead of hurt, and this is how he was repayed? Fear and apprehension? Another fight?
At least she had spirit. He might have gotten bored with her by now, had she not been so... feisty. Like Anko, but different. This one was weak - strong, maybe, by a Ceno female's standards, but so easily breakable to someone who had grown up in the Red District. He could dominate her (He liked to ignore the fact that, in a fight with Anko, such a thing was extremely difficult to do.), and the heady sense of control was addicting.
Still, the struggling made parts of her body rub up against very... private areas. The shivers increased, to the point of visible now as his body quaked in an effort to reign in his self-control. Odd, how he had the strange urge to bite her neck, or smother her with the weight of his body. The dominant, primal side of him wanted to take over his actions, but the red-head fought back with everything within him.
"Stop that." The knife in his hand arched upwards to press threateningly against Sakura's throat. Habit.
The softest hitch of her breath was Sakura's only response, her struggles stopping immediately with the sharp bite of a blade against her throat. Slowly she dragged her eyes up to stare at the similar ones hovering above her, trying to figure out how to swallow without getting cut.
And he wondered why she began to fight again when that damned thing made its appearance.
She was so intent on the knife, she missed the subtle tremors from the body pinning her to the floor, or had mistaken them for her own - completely blind to anything but the knife, like the one that had found its way in that guy's esophagus just a little bit ago.
"Put it away and I won't move, I promise," she whispered, ready to promise the moon if it would get the knife away.
Any other time her fear would be amusing, but right now it only served to annoy him. His eyes darkened as he glanced from her face to her throat, pointedly sliding the flat of the cool metal blade along her jugular. Taunting. Teasing. Letting her knew just what he could do to her - letting her know that he was the one in control, even though his actions denoted subservience to her.
"You won't move regardless." It was a threat as cold as the icy look he shot her way. He held her eyes for a long moment, judging how much more of this she could take, then slowly pulled the knife back, letting it hover between their bodies to serve as a visual reminder of just what he was.
Another look, and then he snapped the blade closed, sliding it smoothly into his drenched pants pocket.
"Besides," His voice took on a note of teasing, even though he somehow managed to keep it as monotone as ever. "I don't cut what I'm trying to fix."
It took a lot of self control to not squeeze her eyes shut with the taunting, to try and not give Gaara any more fodder for his tormenting. Her breath came a lot easier though when the knife was moved away from her throat, despite the fact that the threat hadn't been completely removed altogether.
And yet still her eyes narrowed in irritation -an easy substitute for fear-, with his words. She did however, hold her tongue with any scathing comments that may have been lingering on the tip of her tongue, ever mindful of the knife that slowly disappeared from her line of sight. But that irritation faded away for pure confusion with the almost teasing tone...
He was slowly going to send her off the deep end trying to keep up with his mood swings - she was sure of it.
"You can't blame me for wondering. Your track record around me isn't exactly the greatest," she mumbled, having the good grace to flush a soft embarrassed pink with her assumption of his actions.
He shrugged at that. It wasn't like he expected her to trust him - only... maybe... to fear him a little less? No, that couldn't be it. He liked her fear.
Sometimes.
Shaking his head at these thoughts, Gaara rolled off to the side, relinquishing his dominating position above her in favor of a more comfortable position beside her. He sat cross legged on the floor, reaching into his pocket again to pull out the knife he had just put away. He clicked it open, then shut again, relishing in the sound it made. Open, and closed. Open, and closed. There was a hidden rhythm to his movements, his fingers working along the blade in gentle caresses; like a dancer's feet flirt with the stage they perform on.
It looked like he had lost himself in this simple routine, when suddenly his bright jade eyes snapped open to look at Sakura again.
"You should change." He couldn't reach her wound with those pants on.