October 14 // Naruto // addicted to vagrancy
Title: addicted to vagrancy
Day/Theme: October 14 / cure for the itch
Series: Naruto
Character/Pairing: Temari, implied ShikaTema
Rating: G
Word Count: 229
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
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Perhaps growing up among all that sand got to her head, Shikamaru reflects as Temari takes leave of his slouch with a brazen sweep of her fan.
Particles of grit and faceted dry dust, endless dunes and miles between parched scrub-the desert is not a place conducive to homemaking. It takes a conscious effort to find a patch underneath the arid sky and call it yours, he thinks, because the sun is glaring and the tides of sand are shifting; what land that belongs to you is caught up in an infinite roll and scatter, blown back and forth and in your eyes.
Temari has bright eyes. They are sharp: they see his anxiety when she chats him up near his friends; they notice the slight slump of his shoulders when laden with duties. But Shikamaru thinks that it’s a shame her eyes aren’t sharp enough to see that the itch in her brain can’t be cured by fleeing to this place, that place, jaunt after jaunt to far-off realms of a nowhere town in a nowhere land.
Now, after she’s brushed past him for the hundredth time in a wind so swift it brands his arms with burns, he resigns himself to the fact that she’s a wanderer addicted to vagrancy.
He just wishes there was some way he could get that sand out of her head.
Day/Theme: October 14 / cure for the itch
Series: Naruto
Character/Pairing: Temari, implied ShikaTema
Rating: G
Word Count: 229
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
------
Perhaps growing up among all that sand got to her head, Shikamaru reflects as Temari takes leave of his slouch with a brazen sweep of her fan.
Particles of grit and faceted dry dust, endless dunes and miles between parched scrub-the desert is not a place conducive to homemaking. It takes a conscious effort to find a patch underneath the arid sky and call it yours, he thinks, because the sun is glaring and the tides of sand are shifting; what land that belongs to you is caught up in an infinite roll and scatter, blown back and forth and in your eyes.
Temari has bright eyes. They are sharp: they see his anxiety when she chats him up near his friends; they notice the slight slump of his shoulders when laden with duties. But Shikamaru thinks that it’s a shame her eyes aren’t sharp enough to see that the itch in her brain can’t be cured by fleeing to this place, that place, jaunt after jaunt to far-off realms of a nowhere town in a nowhere land.
Now, after she’s brushed past him for the hundredth time in a wind so swift it brands his arms with burns, he resigns himself to the fact that she’s a wanderer addicted to vagrancy.
He just wishes there was some way he could get that sand out of her head.