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31_days2006-10-13 11:31 pm
harktislark.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2006-10-13 11:31 pm
October 13 // Naruto // this is love
Title: this is love
Day/Theme: October 13 / feel my heart beat
Series: Naruto
Characters: Gaara, Temari
Rating: G
Word Count: 213
Day/Theme: October 13 / feel my heart beat
Series: Naruto
Characters: Gaara, Temari
Rating: G
Word Count: 213
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
-----
Gaara is five when he asks Temari what love is. Temari is flustered, before she realizes that of course he doesn’t know. She’s not quite sure how to go about explaining something so powerful, something that has sparked and fueled and snuffed wars in the blink of a lifetime. She starts out by trying to piece some words together, meaningful words, words of depth and promises and sacrifices, but all she ends up with is a mush that causes her brother’s eyes to squint in confusion. Finally, Temari stops fooling with words and picks up his hand (with the barest bit of hesitation) and presses it to his narrow chest.
This is love, she tells him. When he looks up at her with a blank stare, she takes him by the shoulders (now the hesitation is visible) and pulls him to her own chest. This is what they call love, she repeats. Can you feel it?
I want to, he says; and his ear is tucked tight against his eight-year-old sister; his eyes are shut in concentration. Temari’s arms feel limp around his warm body; they are weak around this boy, this demon, and her face is tense.
It is a while before she realizes that she doesn’t know what love is either.
-----
Gaara is five when he asks Temari what love is. Temari is flustered, before she realizes that of course he doesn’t know. She’s not quite sure how to go about explaining something so powerful, something that has sparked and fueled and snuffed wars in the blink of a lifetime. She starts out by trying to piece some words together, meaningful words, words of depth and promises and sacrifices, but all she ends up with is a mush that causes her brother’s eyes to squint in confusion. Finally, Temari stops fooling with words and picks up his hand (with the barest bit of hesitation) and presses it to his narrow chest.
This is love, she tells him. When he looks up at her with a blank stare, she takes him by the shoulders (now the hesitation is visible) and pulls him to her own chest. This is what they call love, she repeats. Can you feel it?
I want to, he says; and his ear is tucked tight against his eight-year-old sister; his eyes are shut in concentration. Temari’s arms feel limp around his warm body; they are weak around this boy, this demon, and her face is tense.
It is a while before she realizes that she doesn’t know what love is either.