Here are the poetry stories, Zeron
I put all the stories in this one post. If you want me to put them in separate posts let me know. I just thought it might be easier this way. Let me know what you like.
“A Child-like Gesture” Companion piece to “The Roles We Play”
Pairings: Neji/Hinata, mentions of Ino/Sakura
Summary:(AU) Sakura witness a private moment between Neji and Hinata that changes her opinion of their relationship. You don’t need to read “The Roles We Play” in order to understand this piece.
Word Count: 500
Sakura had disliked Hinata up until this moment. The reason for her dislike was possibly juvenile, since it went back to their being in highschool. Hinata punching her in the eye out of uncharacteristic anger because of Sakura hurting Ino was a defining moment for Hinata’s person. It should have made Sakura respect her but it only served to make Sakura dislike her even more. Some grievances to pride couldn’t be eased with the passing of time. But this one moment was slowly cracking Sakura’s hostility.
Sakura was mesmerized by the scene in front of her. Sure she had reservations when she found out Hinata was marrying Neji, who also happened to be her cousin. The incest might not have disgusted Sakura so much if they hadn’t known each other all their lives and practically lived in the same household but they had and Sakura just couldn’t get around that. If Sakura was completely honest with herself, the incest was just an excuse for her to dislike Hinata as was her using Catholicism to disapprove of the marriage. But this one moment was showing Sakura how silly her reasoning seemed. This one moment was changing her perceptions. From this one moment, from one personal child-like moment, Sakura could see how her logic was twisted.
It had to be the most intimate, child-like gesture Sakura had ever seen, yet it was still romantic. Sakura had the feeling she was witnessing something too personal to be seen by the eyes of someone like her.
Hinata was standing on the tip of her toes, her delicate hands gently gripping Neji’s shoulders, staring into Neji’s eyes. His arms were wrapped around her petite frame, his long graceful fingers spread across the small of her back possessively, pulling her body flush against his own. Then with a blush touching her face, she softly rubbed her cheek against his before pulling back to study the upward tilt of his lips from under her lowered eyelashes.
Sakura noticed a more pronounced blush on Hinata’s cheeks, which she was sure now spread to the rest her body. Hinata then surprised Sakura as she inched even more upward with an uncharacteristic boldness as Neji bent his head toward hers and kissed his lips. When Hinata’s arms sneaked around Neji’s neck as he deepened the kiss, Sakura knew she had seen too much. She looked away her own cheeks flushed, wondering how she could have ever insulted their love with such petty maliciousness. Sakura now realized it was ridiculous to judge people, you knew so little about. Besides, Sakura thought with bitter amusement, it was only a punch anyway and the black eye hadn’t lasted that long. It was childish to hold onto that anger and embarrassment. Besides, Hinata was Ino’s friend and it’d be better to just let it go. If only for her girlfriend.
Sakura found it funny how one child-like gesture could numb hostility that years hadn’t been able to quell. Maybe it was time to apologize.
Author’s Note: I hope this shows a different side to the Sakura portrayed in “The Roles We Play”. You need not have read the other to understand this.
The Date Conversation
Warning: slash relationship, profanity, not much else.
“So we’re going on a date?”
Noah glared, Zeke seemed a bit too enthusiastic about this.
“It’s not a date.”
“Yeah. It is.” Zeke seemed ready to bounce off the walls with excitement.
“No. It is not.”
“What is it then?” Zeke crossed his arms against his chest. Noah didn’t like the amusement dancing in his eyes.
“We’re just going out.”
“On a date.”
“It is not a date.” Noah made sure to put emphasis on every word.
“Okay. It’s not a date.” Noah didn’t like the smile curling Zeke’s lips or how easily he conceded the point.
“No. It isn’t.” Noah eyed Zeke suspiciously.
Silence reigned for a moment as Zeke took a seat across from Noah. Noah’s living room was sparsely furnished, only holding necessities such as a chair, a small sofa, a coffee table, a T.V., and a lamp. All, of course, was black and leather. The place was completely spotless.
Zeke propped his socked feet on the coffee table and watched in amusement as the muscle in Noah’s jaw twitched.
“Feet down.” Noah glared at Zeke's feet.
Zeke grinned at him cheekily, ignoring his statement, “If this isn’t a date . . . why is it just the two of us going?”
Noah blinked, eyes still on Zeke’s feet which were resting on the black glossy top of his coffee table. “What?”
“Man, are you slow . . . ” Zeke chuckled. “I said ‘If this isn’t a date, why is it just the two of us going.’”
“I heard what you said. What I fell to understand is the significance of the question.” Noah shoved Zeke’s feet off the table and rose from the leather arm chair.
“Where are you going?”
“To find a cloth to clean your smudges off my damn table.”
“You’re such a neat-freak.”
Zeke’s laughter followed Noah and greeted him as he returned with said cloth and began to rub the surface gently.
“And you’re such a slob.” Noah murmured before settling back in his chair.
Zeke shrugged. “You never answered my question.”
“I don’t want to answer your stupid, inane question.”
Zeke was staring at Noah with the most curious expression as if he were trying to peer into his soul. His head was tilted to the side, his green eyes wide and thoughtful. Noah didn’t like the solemnity of that expression. Suddenly Noah felt uncomfortable and searched the room for something to clean or do to keep from carrying the weight of that look.
“What about this is botherin’ you?”
It was the most innocent question, posed in a calm manner with no promise of a threat, but Noah knew better. When Zeke posed a question in that manner, he was annoyed or worse hurt.
Noah wrenched his glaze away from Zeke.
“No one knows about us, Noah, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Zeke didn’t sound so happy or look so innocent. In fact, he looked as if he was about to burst, but no in a good way.
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Noah’s tongue was thick in his mouth.
The word was stated in the most casual manner and that is what hurt Noah the most.
“We’ve known each other practically all our lives. We’ve had sex. We’ve been dating for a while now, if you haven’t noticed. This is not our first date.”
Noah dared to look at Zeke’s face and found he wasn’t smiling despite the nonchalant tone of his statements.
Noah shifted in his chair. “So . . . ”
Silence spread between them. As Noah watched Zeke in the darkness of his apartment, he could see his left-hand clenching into a fist, as his right traced an imaginary line in the couch. Both were actions displaying Zeke’s agitation and annoyance. Noah wondered absently how a person so compact could sprawl out and cover a whole couch.
“So what the hell is your problem?” Zeke’s eyes flashed dangerously, “For someone who prides himself on doing whatever the hell he wants, you sure care a lot about what everyone thinks.”
“I don’t care what anyone thinks.”
A derisive snort. “Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t.”
Zeke’s eyes narrowed. “Then why all the damn melodrama? It’s just a date.”
“I don’t like people in my business and if you don’t-”
“You don’t want people to know period.”
“I never said that.”
“But your actions damn well say it.”
“You know me. You know how I like my privacy. Stop acting like you don’t.” Noah’s voice dripped with impatience.
Zeke sat up on couch and stood.
He started for the door and turned back around.
He pointed a finger at Noah, his mouth opening to yell.
Noah raised an eyebrow, waiting for Zeke to finally blow.
Zeke’s mouth snapped closed as he dropped his finger.
“You know what: fuck it. Just forget it. I’m out.”
Noah watched as Zeke made his way to the door again and noted he didn’t have any shoes on.
“I made reservations.”
The statement was soft and pleading.
“Huh?” Zeke paused his hand on the knob. He looked cute with his faced scrunched up in confusion.
Noah’s shoulders were slumped, losing his rigid posture. He was screwing things up again.
“Just...don’t...Zeke..” Noah fumbled his words, pleading with his dark eyes.
Noah’s eyes met Zeke’s eyes.
Zeke ran a hand through his spiky blond hair and sighed.
“I made reservations.”
Noah repeated the statement as if it explained everything and anything.
The funny thing was, it did.
Zeke’s eyes turned to half crescents as a grin pulled at his face. “You made reservations, huh?”
Noah nodded as Zeke crossed the room and planted himself in his lap, his tanned cheek pressed against Noah’s pale neck.
“So, this is kind of like a date then, right?”
They were back to the original question.
Noah couldn’t stop the rolling of his eyes.
“You’re an idiot.”
“Sure. But it’s a date right?”
“Whatever....” It was barely a mumble.
“Huh, didn’t catch that, Noah?”
“I said yes, damn it! It’s a date!”
Noah was exasperated with the whole situation and Zeke and kissed him breathless to shut him up.
“So,” Zeke breathed, “Does this mean I get to hold your hand when we go on our date?”
“Zeke, shut the hell up.”
You Don’t Care
Warnings: slash relationship, profanity, not much else.
You don’t care.
That phrase keeps repeating itself through my mind.
You don’t care what people think.
I keep asking myself how in the hell you could not care about something so important. I keep thinking maybe it’s because you have no family, therefore you have nothing to lose in the long run. I keep thinking you just don’t understand the complexity of the situation, which boils down to more than just you and me: this situation, this thing between us involves you, me, my family, and my future. If they were to find out about us, if someone saw us kiss I would lose everything I stand to gain.
Don’t you understand?
You don’t. You keep saying you don’t, with a defiant fire burning in your eyes one moment and a cheeky smile on your lips the next.
You’re annoying me and you know it.
Haven’t you watched the news? Don’t you see society’s judgement? Society, especially in a small town we live in, is not ready for us. It’s not like we’re two women, people don’t find us cute and they don’t want to watch.
You say you’ll take care of me, as if I’m some delicate woman who’ll break without financial security. I don’t need my family’s money or your money for that matter- I can make it on my own. I just prefer to have things on my terms- My way. If my family should ever find out about us, it’ll be because I want them to, not because some nosey gossip saw your hand brushing across mine in a private intimate gesture.
You think it’s funny. You keep laughing between narrowing your eyes at me, as if you’re not taking me seriously. As if this is all a joke. You say I’m blowing this out proportion. I say you’re over trivializing this.
You don’t understand it. You don’t understand growing up in a house built on the tradition of a tyrant that has been hardened by generations of submission. Then again, maybe I didn’t expect you to. Both of your parents are dead, have been dead for a long time. You never knew them. Your sexual orientation has never bothered your guardian, he’s always accepted you for whom you were. So you couldn’t understand the disgust of having to hide who you are or the fear of being found out and disowned.
I don’t want to hide who I am. You know this- I’ve explained it to you before. Why can’t you just understand?
You’re right, though- This is ridiculous. Ridiculous how one careless gesture caused all this havoc. How you not being able to keep your damn hands to yourself caused this. How you kissing my lips and rubbing your cheek against mine caused this. I’m not really mad at you- You have to know that. I’m just frustrated that we have to be secretive and no one seems to understand. My family doesn’t understand that love for some transcends gender and you don’t understand that I don’t want to make this an issue with them.
I don’t know how many people saw. It couldn’t have been that many. I think it was one person. I’m almost beginning not to care.
When I tell you that, you look at me with an intensity in your eyes I rarely see. Then you give me a stupid grin and promise to talk to our one person audience tomorrow. Now I’m trying to understand you. I’m trying to see the logic in how your mind works. Are you just trying to pacify me? Did I pacify you? Did your love make you truly understand what I’ve been trying to tell you all this time? Or was my not caring the only thing you needed to hear? Was knowing for one moment that I didn’t give a damn about society or the person who saw or my family what you needed know?
You’re looking at me again.
You nod once and I know it answers all my unasked questions.
It’s funny how things work out between us.
You not caring drives me insane.
Me not caring gives you complete bliss.