Ficlet - Reflection
Title: Reflection
Pairing: MadaIta
Rating: PG-13 (I think...)
Warnings: Spoilers if you don't know who Madara is.
Disclaimer: Characters property of M. Kishimoto
A/N: I have looked it over and rewritten it over and over, I just hope it works. And please forgive my shortcomings when it comes to titles.
A/N 2: I know that red eyed people aren't weak. It was not meant as an insult so please don't take offense.
He can hear the others' voices echoing slowly through out the hideout: Hidan screaming at Kakuzu for some reason or another; Sasori and Deidara once again trapped in a more and more heated discussion.
In here it's quiet. Quiet and calm, just like he wants it. He stares into the mirror, black eyes starring into black eyes. Black eyes. Sometimes he forget that that's what he really is, black eyed, so used to wear his eyes red. Most often, if someone's eyes are red, it is a sign that they are crying, that they to want to cry, that they have just finished crying.
To be red eyed is to be weak.
Itachi hasn't cried in years, hasn't cried since he left everything, and everyone, behind. Still, his eyes amuse him. Because it's the red ones that are strong and the black ones that are weak. Suddenly frustrated he closes his eyes. treacherous as they are. He wishes he'd have only one eye colour.
He can hear someone enter the room but he doesn't leave his spot in front of the mirror. It can only be one out of two people and he will find out soon enough.
There's a hand on his waist and he can feel the other tugging at his hair tie, releasing his hair from it's hold. As he open his eyes he finds the newcomer still entranced with the black locks.
“Sometimes I wonder what would happen if you cut it short.” he says thoughtfully after a while.
“I would probably look like Sasuke.” Itachi answers, expressionless.
The other one smiles a little at that and let a lock of Itachis hair slip between his fingers before he answers.
“You probably would.”
The second arm comes to rest at Itachis waist as well and their eyes lock with each other in the mirror. Then the other turns sharply, grabbing a firm hold of Itachis wrist, dragging him into the bedroom with him. There's nothing gentle about his hold, he's quite sure that it will leave a bruise. Then again, Madara thinks coldly as he yanks on Itachis arm, making the raven haired teen stumble backwards onto the bed, he will have other bruises to match it.
Pairing: MadaIta
Rating: PG-13 (I think...)
Warnings: Spoilers if you don't know who Madara is.
Disclaimer: Characters property of M. Kishimoto
A/N: I have looked it over and rewritten it over and over, I just hope it works. And please forgive my shortcomings when it comes to titles.
A/N 2: I know that red eyed people aren't weak. It was not meant as an insult so please don't take offense.
He can hear the others' voices echoing slowly through out the hideout: Hidan screaming at Kakuzu for some reason or another; Sasori and Deidara once again trapped in a more and more heated discussion.
In here it's quiet. Quiet and calm, just like he wants it. He stares into the mirror, black eyes starring into black eyes. Black eyes. Sometimes he forget that that's what he really is, black eyed, so used to wear his eyes red. Most often, if someone's eyes are red, it is a sign that they are crying, that they to want to cry, that they have just finished crying.
To be red eyed is to be weak.
Itachi hasn't cried in years, hasn't cried since he left everything, and everyone, behind. Still, his eyes amuse him. Because it's the red ones that are strong and the black ones that are weak. Suddenly frustrated he closes his eyes. treacherous as they are. He wishes he'd have only one eye colour.
He can hear someone enter the room but he doesn't leave his spot in front of the mirror. It can only be one out of two people and he will find out soon enough.
There's a hand on his waist and he can feel the other tugging at his hair tie, releasing his hair from it's hold. As he open his eyes he finds the newcomer still entranced with the black locks.
“Sometimes I wonder what would happen if you cut it short.” he says thoughtfully after a while.
“I would probably look like Sasuke.” Itachi answers, expressionless.
The other one smiles a little at that and let a lock of Itachis hair slip between his fingers before he answers.
“You probably would.”
The second arm comes to rest at Itachis waist as well and their eyes lock with each other in the mirror. Then the other turns sharply, grabbing a firm hold of Itachis wrist, dragging him into the bedroom with him. There's nothing gentle about his hold, he's quite sure that it will leave a bruise. Then again, Madara thinks coldly as he yanks on Itachis arm, making the raven haired teen stumble backwards onto the bed, he will have other bruises to match it.