I always fantasized about kissing you. I would slip in and out of phase with whatever I was doing and I would think about you. I would wonder what you would taste like, if I could ever taste you. I wondered how it would feel to have your lips part and I wondered how it would for us to lavish
(lipsclashmercilesslykisssmotherithurtsandiloveit)
each other. It was a secret. Just a sort of girlish hormone. But I didn't get over it.

The first time I did kiss you, it was playful. It was experimenting. It was practice. We were just sitting around, talking about god knows what, when suddenly you said
(!iwanttofuckyousohardyoucantwalkstraight!)
"Kiss me!" You're voice had been higher than I had ever heard before, and I didn't know if you were drunk or not. But, I complied. I bent my face to yours and kissed you. You weren't for gentle crap at the time either. You were horny. You shoved your tongue in my mouth in a second. But you were the best kiss I had ever had. The first too, although I'll never tell anyone so.

I think that day we both discovered we were bisexual. We admitted it to each other, and to those close to us. We freely talked about how hot those around us were. I admired you; you could freely talk about how much you wished you were as hot as Kurenai-sensei, and how much you wanted to blow Sasuke-kun. I was
(hopelesslyinloveandicannotgetoverit)
always wishing I could be as carefree as you. When we didn't have missions you would work in the flower shop outside, wooing male customers in with your good while still wearing your headband strong. I admired you a lot.

And then one day my world was ripped from beneath my feet. He ran away. Sasuke-kun ran away. I was so infatuated with him at the time...and it had hurt so much. Who did I run to? Well, I ran to you of course. You had been standing outside a bookstore when I found you, face buried in some shoujo manga and a few bags in your arm. I ran to you and you raised your face just in time to prepare to catch me as I lunged into your
(holdmelikethisjustlikethisdonteverletmego)
arms. I cried. I cried a lot. You didn't immediately ask me why I was making such a scene. You held me.

And then you took me back to your house. I finally told you what had happened and I think something inside me snapped as I said it. I was right in the middle of the story when the tears stopped falling. Suddenly I was just sort of numb, as though I was just realizing I had let him run away. I had not been strong enough. I finished my story and you sort of sat there for a moment. Then you kissed me. Not like before. This was just a soft peck on my tear soaked lips. And then I kissed you, not a small touch of the lips. We
(tonguescrashtogethertearsfallmakelovemakepainallnight)
made out, and after a few minutes broke apart panting. This was a strange kiss. It was sort of romantic, in a way, and sort of as if you were telling me you would always be there for me. There was no playfulness in it. It just was. We had been sitting on your bed, your back pressed to the wall and sitting on the pillows. I sort of fell back, with my knees still up, staring at your ceiling, and secretly confiding in the cracking plaster.

We had always been close, but now we were closer. If ever I felt sad I could only come to you and we would cry together. You made me feel beautiful. You made me like the person I was, even though I was filled with so many blatant flaws. I was
(soclosetofallingyetsofirmlyinyourgrasp)
in love with that feeling. That feeling that someone really, truly cared and understood me. I didn't really notice it at the time, but slowly I was visiting you every day. Slowly I stopped thinking about Konoha, or Naruto, and even Sasuke. I was thinking "when will I see you again?"

Years passed and you and I matured physically and emotionally. You grew out your beautiful hair and I kept mine short. We evolved from children playing with knives to adults throwing kunai. I became a medic-nin, assisting missions, working with the ANBU, and studying with Tsunade. You became an ANBU member yourself, working hard missions, and returning from every mission with a darker expression than before. Every time we returned from successful or unsuccessful missions we would have sleepovers. We would
(!touchmetherefuckmenowkissmesoftly!)
make out and paint each other's nails like it was no different matter. Friends with benefits? Something like that. It was a routine no one else knew about, but we never really tried to keep a secret. We never made a point not to tell anyone. It just never came up I suppose.

And then something terrible happened. I feel horrible when I say it that way, but it was horrible. The night had been dark, and I had been sitting at my desk, researching herbs and tinkering on the idea of going to the hot spring for a late night bath. I remember I had suddenly felt so rigid, like listening to someone fold up a metal ironing board. I heard a knock at my apartment door and I knew something wasn't right. Hurriedly I answered it and Neji was standing there. He looked pretty terrible, but I could tell by looking into his
(hazyandlustfulglaredontholdbackjustdoit)
eyes that he wasn't here for treatment. One look in his eyes and I knew they had found him. They had found Sasuke.

For some reason, as I followed the Hyuuga to the Hokage tower, both of us running, I felt a horrible sense of forebode. I knew that whatever the hell was about to happen, it wouldn't be good. When we entered Sasuke was unconscious. He wasn't particularly beaten and I felt glad, that meant Sasuke had gone willingly. If he had tried to fight then he would be...well...he wouldn't be this clean anyway. As I stood there, staring at the unconscious form of the boy I thought I was in love with, I felt fury overtake me. I
(!damnyoutohellhowcouldyoudothattome!)
walked straight up to Sasuke and punched him in the face. Shikamaru bolted up to restrain me, but I didn't make any move to attack any further, and I sat down on the floor.

You ran in, probably with the same expression I had when I arrived. I had buried my head into my knees, and I could see your sandaled feet rushed past me to Sasuke. I suddenly felt so sick with myself. So distraught. Because he shouldn't have run away. Because he had no right to leave me behind like that. And as I looked into your face, on that dark night, and say your eyes so broken, I felt an anger at Sasuke surface I never
(dreamingtonightinasadplacewithoutyouherewithme)
imagined I could ever feel against him. It was the betrayed empathy Naruto had always felt for Sasuke. And suddenly I realized I was not in love with Sasuke. I realized I had been betraying myself all along. I went home after completing the harsh task of sedating, restraining, and tending to the many wounds of Sasuke. I walked in the door and grabbed a couple of bottles of sake from the cabinet under my sink. I took my bath. Cold. Alone. Drunk. But I still took my bath.

Over the next month I avoided everyone. I avoided Naruto. I avoided Kakashi. I avoided Tsunade. I avoided Sasuke. I avoided you. I secluded myself in my apartment, and took on as many missions as possible, just so I could be tired when I went home and sleep. I began to develop insomnia, and in a fret to get myself to sleep, I began taking drugs to get the rest I needed. Kakashi visited me one day, and I remember the look of
(!sicknastyuglygirlgetyoursleepstopeatingyoustupidpig!)
shock and disgust on his partially concealed face when he looked at me, absorbing the heavy circles around my half opened eyes, the breakout of acne on my face, the deadness in the way I moved, the unkempt hair I had slaved over for years. Slowly, I was killing myself. I had taken up a self-destructive thing to do on a daily basis, my sleep medicine, so I wouldn't just collapse. I didn't want anyone to know what was wrong. So when Kakashi demanded to know why I looked like I took a unicycle to hell and back, I told him I had a huge caseload and was on my period.

But then you came to see me, a concern in your gaze I hadn't seen in a long time. We spent a long time talking, and you braded flowers in my hair, like we used to when we were kids. You fixed up my face, and you whipped away my non-existent tears. You found my pills and took them, although you didn't tell me, and you
(kissedmeroughlypushmedownmakemesubmit)
stayed with me throughout the night. You held me. You let me cry. I was being selfish at the time, and I never looked up to see if you needed comfort as well, but I'm pretty sure, as I think about it now, you had been crying.

The next morning I woke up alone the place where your body had been only an empty sheet and realization dawned on me like the headache of a hangover I didn't deserve: I was in love with you. I was madly in love with you. I just wish I ever had the courage to tell you so. Because ever time I would look into your beautiful blue shinobi's eyes, or get to play with your obsolete blonde hair I would feel
(uncomfortablewaitingjusttouchmeheretouchmenow)
giddy and excited. I would try to speak but my words would spill over one another leaving me to stand before you looking dumb and naive.

And as I lay hear feeling Sasuke's fist squirming out of my chest and a wave of blood reject itself from the deeper innings of my throat, I am thinking of you. I am thinking of how you protected me until the end. I am trying to block out your crumpled body
(!donttouchheryousonofabitchillkillyou!)
a few feet away. I am thinking about how I always fantasized about kissing you.

And silently I wonder...

(?didyouloveme?)