[3/4] what holds him here
-falls over and dies-
I love 31 days. They have such good prompts. But that means I'm writing everyday.
They're pretty short, usually only my drabbles are like that. But because I'm actually following a deadline for these (better than I ever did for school), it'll have to do.
Title: what holds him here
Day/Theme: 28. The subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul.
Series: Naruto
Character/Pairing: SasuSaku
Rating: G/K
Note: Happy birthday, Sakura!
Cross-posted on Fanfiction.net and a bunch of comms.
.
It had become routine for us to watch TV in the dark. It was nicer that way, and neither of us particularly liked bright lights anyway.
.
[i can stare at him undetected or space out as i wonder if he looks at me too]
.
I wouldn't know if it was typically hard to come to an agreement on what to watch because, frankly, I never cared. If it's good, then I enjoy it; if it's bad, I can enjoy making fun of it.
Sasuke is the same.
.
[bangsmokefire]
.
We watch the explosions blossoming on the screen and smile.
.
"Isn't it awesome to just blow up stuff like that?"
[i make out each spike in his hair―]
"I know."
.
There's hardly ever any emotion in his voice, but I would wager a lot on the fact that he's having a pretty good time at the moment.
This thought elates me.
He's on my left and about a foot away from me on the leather sofa. My hand is resting casually beside me and his beside him.
They are close, and I can't explain how, but I can almost feel it there.
.
[it's calling me and taunting me and i can almost feel its presence searing into my skin]
.
Whatever courage I have is multiplied by the lack of light. I reach over and flick his hand, hoping I can pass it off as teasing.
.
[flawed logic―who would just flick someone's hand and smile so warmly unless they felt something?]
.
Just like that, the tingling in my hand disappears to be replaced by heat.
Sasuke raises his eyebrows at me and I return a mischievous grin.
.
[andand―]
.
He rolls his eyes but smirks before flicking me back.
Then, we continue watching TV. I can't stop myself from smiling, so I tilt my head forward in the hopes of hiding my face.
The strong rush stabilizes, and as one show ends, I remember the secret Sasuke revealed to me last time.
.
[staring at him again, but i see no traces of sadness or other negative feelings]
.
How can he be so indifferent? It's like he gave up and pushed it away.
I think it means he's stronger than me in that sense as well.
.
[i'm just so weak, aren't i?]
.
But I won't angst, not here, not now.
His response has made me braver still, and I reach over again, this time settling my hand on top of his and curling my fingers around it. I hope with everything I have that it won't make things awkward, that he won't pull away [in disgust], that he won't end these times we spend together that I've come to treasure so much.
.
[not breathing, but heart's working double-time―not healthy, perhaps, but unavoidable]
.
He's not pulling away. He's not pulling away, and I repeat these words like a mantra in my brain, unable to think of anything else.
Without willing it to, my fingers start to move in his hand in a gentle almost-caress. I can't bring myself to stop and he's not pulling away.
.
[this, i think, is a new kind of bliss]
.
So maybe he could still be hurting a little. And maybe I'll leave and when I come back, things will change and we'll have taken two steps back.
But in this moment in time, I know how I feel. And I know I couldn't ask for more.
I think he might feel okay now. Right now, there's a very subtle difference but I think, wistfully, that he might someday consider this feeling as his anchor―the feeling of my hand in his.
I want to be what holds him here.
.
[we part and i can't wait to meet again]
I love 31 days. They have such good prompts. But that means I'm writing everyday.
They're pretty short, usually only my drabbles are like that. But because I'm actually following a deadline for these (better than I ever did for school), it'll have to do.
Title: what holds him here
Day/Theme: 28. The subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul.
Series: Naruto
Character/Pairing: SasuSaku
Rating: G/K
Note: Happy birthday, Sakura!
Cross-posted on Fanfiction.net and a bunch of comms.
.
It had become routine for us to watch TV in the dark. It was nicer that way, and neither of us particularly liked bright lights anyway.
.
[i can stare at him undetected or space out as i wonder if he looks at me too]
.
I wouldn't know if it was typically hard to come to an agreement on what to watch because, frankly, I never cared. If it's good, then I enjoy it; if it's bad, I can enjoy making fun of it.
Sasuke is the same.
.
[bangsmokefire]
.
We watch the explosions blossoming on the screen and smile.
.
"Isn't it awesome to just blow up stuff like that?"
[i make out each spike in his hair―]
"I know."
.
There's hardly ever any emotion in his voice, but I would wager a lot on the fact that he's having a pretty good time at the moment.
This thought elates me.
He's on my left and about a foot away from me on the leather sofa. My hand is resting casually beside me and his beside him.
They are close, and I can't explain how, but I can almost feel it there.
.
[it's calling me and taunting me and i can almost feel its presence searing into my skin]
.
Whatever courage I have is multiplied by the lack of light. I reach over and flick his hand, hoping I can pass it off as teasing.
.
[flawed logic―who would just flick someone's hand and smile so warmly unless they felt something?]
.
Just like that, the tingling in my hand disappears to be replaced by heat.
Sasuke raises his eyebrows at me and I return a mischievous grin.
.
[andand―]
.
He rolls his eyes but smirks before flicking me back.
Then, we continue watching TV. I can't stop myself from smiling, so I tilt my head forward in the hopes of hiding my face.
The strong rush stabilizes, and as one show ends, I remember the secret Sasuke revealed to me last time.
.
[staring at him again, but i see no traces of sadness or other negative feelings]
.
How can he be so indifferent? It's like he gave up and pushed it away.
I think it means he's stronger than me in that sense as well.
.
[i'm just so weak, aren't i?]
.
But I won't angst, not here, not now.
His response has made me braver still, and I reach over again, this time settling my hand on top of his and curling my fingers around it. I hope with everything I have that it won't make things awkward, that he won't pull away [in disgust], that he won't end these times we spend together that I've come to treasure so much.
.
[not breathing, but heart's working double-time―not healthy, perhaps, but unavoidable]
.
He's not pulling away. He's not pulling away, and I repeat these words like a mantra in my brain, unable to think of anything else.
Without willing it to, my fingers start to move in his hand in a gentle almost-caress. I can't bring myself to stop and he's not pulling away.
.
[this, i think, is a new kind of bliss]
.
So maybe he could still be hurting a little. And maybe I'll leave and when I come back, things will change and we'll have taken two steps back.
But in this moment in time, I know how I feel. And I know I couldn't ask for more.
I think he might feel okay now. Right now, there's a very subtle difference but I think, wistfully, that he might someday consider this feeling as his anchor―the feeling of my hand in his.
I want to be what holds him here.
.
[we part and i can't wait to meet again]