Its so cold here
It is not even November, how can it be so cold. I swear, the heat in this apartment must have something wrong, I just can not seem to get warm.
I found a store that sells sculpting supplies though. They say art is healing ...
Maybe some things can't be healed.
Sasuke I sent the information to you, I hope it does you some good.
(Dreams and Delusions).
The dry desert winds blew through the open balcony doors. He was still asleep, or at least pretending to. It had been a late night at some official function, and even though the sun had been up for a few hours, he wanted nothing more than to remain in bed. He felt the bed shift as she stood up though, his eyes barely opened to slits as he watched her in the sunlight. Her skin was perfect. She was perfect.
He smiled as she closed the doors, saying something about the dry desert air, but he didn't pay attention, because then she was back at his side. She smelt as perfect as she looked. She didn't smell like Suna, she smelt of something more colorful - exotic berries and crystal clean lakes. Her lips though, were as sweet as anything he had ever tasted.
His arms wrapped around her, pulling her back into bed as his lips traveled along the curves of her flesh. He pressed her into the bed, feeling how her legs curled around his body. His lips were everywhere, tasting every inch of her body. Then, her gasp covered the moment his heart skipped as he thrust into her, he felt her envelope him as he took her again. His body and her body merging until every gasp and moan was lost to the poin the didn't know when one of them ended and the other began.
He lay there in bed with her in his arms, his eyes slowly falling closed as he drifted to sleep again. Then she was gone. He woke with a start, throwing on clothes even as he jumped from the balcony following the faint smell of strawberries still clinging to the air.
Scrolls in his hands, he ran through the hard terrain around Suna. His bare feet throwing him forward as he raced to catch up with her. She wasn't alone. Before he could do anything though he saw her look at him. The form of a dark haired man she had been with rested behind her as she rose to guard that man from him. Her Kunai was drawn as she looked at him, pain obvious in her eyes. However, to her, the man behind her was more important than him...
Sasori woke with a start, his shoulder throbbing in pain, but that didn't matter now, he needed to pour all of that pain into the clay, immortalize the moment his heart broke -- again. Maybe though painstakingly reproducing that moment could he deal with it, and deal with the lose of her. True art comes from suffering, and he truly was suffering.
I found a store that sells sculpting supplies though. They say art is healing ...
Maybe some things can't be healed.
Sasuke I sent the information to you, I hope it does you some good.
(Dreams and Delusions).
The dry desert winds blew through the open balcony doors. He was still asleep, or at least pretending to. It had been a late night at some official function, and even though the sun had been up for a few hours, he wanted nothing more than to remain in bed. He felt the bed shift as she stood up though, his eyes barely opened to slits as he watched her in the sunlight. Her skin was perfect. She was perfect.
He smiled as she closed the doors, saying something about the dry desert air, but he didn't pay attention, because then she was back at his side. She smelt as perfect as she looked. She didn't smell like Suna, she smelt of something more colorful - exotic berries and crystal clean lakes. Her lips though, were as sweet as anything he had ever tasted.
His arms wrapped around her, pulling her back into bed as his lips traveled along the curves of her flesh. He pressed her into the bed, feeling how her legs curled around his body. His lips were everywhere, tasting every inch of her body. Then, her gasp covered the moment his heart skipped as he thrust into her, he felt her envelope him as he took her again. His body and her body merging until every gasp and moan was lost to the poin the didn't know when one of them ended and the other began.
He lay there in bed with her in his arms, his eyes slowly falling closed as he drifted to sleep again. Then she was gone. He woke with a start, throwing on clothes even as he jumped from the balcony following the faint smell of strawberries still clinging to the air.
Scrolls in his hands, he ran through the hard terrain around Suna. His bare feet throwing him forward as he raced to catch up with her. She wasn't alone. Before he could do anything though he saw her look at him. The form of a dark haired man she had been with rested behind her as she rose to guard that man from him. Her Kunai was drawn as she looked at him, pain obvious in her eyes. However, to her, the man behind her was more important than him...
Sasori woke with a start, his shoulder throbbing in pain, but that didn't matter now, he needed to pour all of that pain into the clay, immortalize the moment his heart broke -- again. Maybe though painstakingly reproducing that moment could he deal with it, and deal with the lose of her. True art comes from suffering, and he truly was suffering.