367 words down...
...and pretty much 10k more to go.
This is truly sad. All I do lately is whine about this freakin' story; I don't really talk about fandom irl, but I've already been told many a time to go away with my histrionic woes.
I think this is the last of delirious!Sasuke, though, which is awesome, even if I do I kind of like him, but what it really means is finally doing away with the unnecessary blanket!fic nonsense parading as a plot device for a nonexistent plot. And to think I still have another 15k+ words left to filter through after this--where's my coffee?
Eh, I suppose it could be worse. At least I'm in the mood for once.
You moan at the feel of thick fabric clinging to your skin, the weight uncomfortable and suffocating laid over you.
There’s a tingle from the legs tangled within your own that spreads to your fingers cool against heated skin. A hand rubs against your side, emits a warmth that makes you shiver.
Your eyes not fully opened meet too familiar blue, see Naruto, and you moan again trying to roll on your other side.
He snorts, but his arm around you doesn’t let you turn away. “Yeah, being this close to you doesn’t make me feel too hot, either.”
Your eyes close, then open again. A hand reaches to shove at multiple layers of fabric, the quilts too many piled on top of you.
“Oh no-you don’t get to do that. Not going through this with you again today.” Gritting his teeth, he flings the quilts back over you. “As hot as you think you feel, trust me, you’re still kind of cold.”
The arm around you loosens, and you push away from him with your palm flat against his shoulder.
“I’m just trying to-” He grunts at your elbow hitting his chest. “I’m trying to keep you warm. Work with me here.”
He hisses when your knee brushes against his thigh, tries to hold you still with your legs trapped between his own.
After a moment, you swallow, lie unmoving beside him. Your breath comes out slow, heavy from your chest, and you shudder at his fingers still at your side spreading warmth into your skin. You breathe in, stare. His fingers pause, don’t quite move away, and your mouth parts at the sudden hesitance too clear on his face.
“...this is all your fault, you know,” he mumbles, looks past you to the wall behind your back. He pulls the edge of the quilt up to your neck alongside his. “Should have left you in the damn cold.”
You feel your body being shifted closer, feel your eyelids begin to droop despite the light from the window too bright illuminating the room. The arm around you squeezes, his fingers pressing too deep into your skin, but the blue already starts to fade away.
This is truly sad. All I do lately is whine about this freakin' story; I don't really talk about fandom irl, but I've already been told many a time to go away with my histrionic woes.
I think this is the last of delirious!Sasuke, though, which is awesome, even if I do I kind of like him, but what it really means is finally doing away with the unnecessary blanket!fic nonsense parading as a plot device for a nonexistent plot. And to think I still have another 15k+ words left to filter through after this--where's my coffee?
Eh, I suppose it could be worse. At least I'm in the mood for once.
You moan at the feel of thick fabric clinging to your skin, the weight uncomfortable and suffocating laid over you.
There’s a tingle from the legs tangled within your own that spreads to your fingers cool against heated skin. A hand rubs against your side, emits a warmth that makes you shiver.
Your eyes not fully opened meet too familiar blue, see Naruto, and you moan again trying to roll on your other side.
He snorts, but his arm around you doesn’t let you turn away. “Yeah, being this close to you doesn’t make me feel too hot, either.”
Your eyes close, then open again. A hand reaches to shove at multiple layers of fabric, the quilts too many piled on top of you.
“Oh no-you don’t get to do that. Not going through this with you again today.” Gritting his teeth, he flings the quilts back over you. “As hot as you think you feel, trust me, you’re still kind of cold.”
The arm around you loosens, and you push away from him with your palm flat against his shoulder.
“I’m just trying to-” He grunts at your elbow hitting his chest. “I’m trying to keep you warm. Work with me here.”
He hisses when your knee brushes against his thigh, tries to hold you still with your legs trapped between his own.
After a moment, you swallow, lie unmoving beside him. Your breath comes out slow, heavy from your chest, and you shudder at his fingers still at your side spreading warmth into your skin. You breathe in, stare. His fingers pause, don’t quite move away, and your mouth parts at the sudden hesitance too clear on his face.
“...this is all your fault, you know,” he mumbles, looks past you to the wall behind your back. He pulls the edge of the quilt up to your neck alongside his. “Should have left you in the damn cold.”
You feel your body being shifted closer, feel your eyelids begin to droop despite the light from the window too bright illuminating the room. The arm around you squeezes, his fingers pressing too deep into your skin, but the blue already starts to fade away.