Here's another instalment, can I have a huge shoutout to all the wonderful reviews I've had on the story. I haven't had time to reply to any individually but they're a treat to read always.

I know a lot of you were looking for a close up on their lunch together but, I've focused this story around their painting sessions till now, not too keen on breaking that pattern, apologies for any disappointment that may cause.

While I'm not majorly keen on adding in a host of other characters in this story, I've added in a few to keep the plot going, hoping that's a middle ground we can all agree on.

Hope you enjoy it, Reviews are always welcome!

~ Raven

There were times when she questioned the entirety of her relationship with Sasori. Sure, they were a campus item, she featured in the majority of his artwork, they'd been dating for two years now.

And even when they fought- as they were in the middle of doing as such for the past few days- they still managed to sort things out by the end.

But did she love her red haired childhood friend?

Most probably not.

The first time he'd asked her to model for her was the last time they'd interacted as friends; although somewhat nervous she hadn't been uncooperative in stripping for him- she trusted him, if nothing else.

And once he slept with her at the end of that session, they'd never quite settled for friends since. The

At the time it had seemed like the right thing to do; the comfortable option. They weren't unhappy in the apartment they shared off campus.

But she didn't love him. In fact, she hadn't thought it necessary.

Then why, while she'd walked back after the last time she'd modelled for Naruto, could she not for the life of her bring herself to be angry at the way he'd made a pass at a woman who was quite clearly taken? Why was the only thing on her mind as she kissed Sasori in greeting, the image of blonde hair and strong, paint stained fingers cupping her face and pulling her closer? How come when she fell asleep resting her head on his shoulder, was the only thing pricking her conscience the nagging sensation that she was in the wrong place?

And why did she still proceed to go out for lunch with a man who was quite clearly willing to ignore the fact that she was in a relationship and pursue her of his own accord? And then go on to thoroughly enjoy herself with a personality that had managed to captivate her attention in a way none had for the longest of times?

She felt a slightly sharper tug at her hair bring her attention back to the present, with a visible wince as she turned hair head back to look accusatorially at the long haired blonde currently in the process of tying her hair up into an elaborately pleated geisha-styled bun.

"Sheesh! I'm sorry, ok, stop giving me the death glare!" Ino's voice echoed from behind her, long nimble fingers still laced in her midnight dark locks.

"A little more gentle wouldn't kill anyone, Ino. Except you, maybe." A soft laugh chimed from the windowsill to Hinata's right, where a rosette haired woman sat perched on the window ledge, mocking her blonde haired best friend.

"Why don't you try styling her hair then, its harder than rocket science I swear, Naruto has the strangest of demands!" The blonde retorted indignantly, and though Hinata couldn't actually see her face, she knew the blonde was in the middle of one of her exaggerated eye rolls as she spoke.

"You're the one who agreed to do it." Sakura deadpanned, still sitting on the windowsill she seemed to have claimed as her own, watching as Ino swept up a part of hinata's hair and folded it inwards to form an ornately hanging bun beneath the pleated design she'd created atop her head with the remainder of her hair.

Naruto had sent her a short text in the morning- apparently he'd found out she was close friends with Ino and Sakura, and somehow knew them too as he'd requested she let Ino style her hair at her apartment before she went to his apartment for their next session.

"How'd you meet Naruto anyway, Hinata?" The blonde asked, ignoring Sakura's statement as she looked down at her dark haired friend with a mischievous smirk.

"He asked me to model for him, I needed a job. Simple as that." She responded, trying her best to keep her voice entirely neutral as she spoke; knowing Ino she'd make all sorts of insinuations if Hinata gave her any leeway to do so.

"Model for him? Sure that's all that you've been doing with him?" The teasing hint in the blonde's voice did not go unnoticed.

Her thoughts drifted slightly to the lunch she'd had with him the other day, how much it felt like a date when it so clearly wasn't.

"What do you expect her to say, Ino? She's with Sasori," Sakura interjected with a light laugh, resorting to their usual banter.

To think there actually was something to say; should she tell them?

"But he's hot. I mean, he didn't use to be, but damn he's hot now." The tasteful appreciation in Ino's voice was borderline wolf whistling by this point.

She felt the back of her neck flush ever so slightly as her thoughts drifted back to the feel of his lips against hers the last time she'd modelled for him, before she snapped her thoughts back to present, idly thinking that perhaps she did need a second opinion on it- who better to ask than her two experts on all things masculine?

"But she's taken." Sakura quipped.

"A-actually," she interrupted, feeling Ino's curious eyes instantly snapping to the back of her head, boring into her.

Ino was a predator by nature. She had an unconquerable need to know about or have some element of control over anything and everything going on around her. Which of course meant that she was an insufferable gossip, and loved to interrogate people with a vengeance.

"Go on…?" She asked, almost impatiently.

From the other side of the room Sakura looked at her with mild curiosity, and a significant amount of surprise on her face.

Sakura was a different type of predator. The type that let their prey come to them, because they were utterly confident in the fact that they would eventually approach her. But she was also much more prone to empathising than her blonde friend- not out of the blonde's lack of compassion, but due to the rosette's abundance of it.

"I may have…unintentionally…been kissed by him?" She ventured, gauging their reactions carefully.

Sakura looked as though she might burst into laughter at any moment… but there was a glint of what seemed like understanding in her eyes. Ino, on the other hand, looked ecstatic.

"Oh my god! Our Hinata's finally going to break up with that asshole, I can't believe it!" She exclaimed, darting round to stand in front of her as she started weaving multiple gold and silver ornate looking flowers into her hair.

"I never said-"

"Did you kiss back?" It was Sakura asking this time, finally pushing herself off the window ledge to plop herself down on the bed in Ino's room.

"…yes"

"I want details! Who knew you could score a hunk like that, more like two at the same time, Hinata! Is he a good kisser? Better than Sasori?" Ino pressed with her relentless questioning.

"I had lunch with him too… not on the job." Hinata found herself adding, almost as though an afterthought.

"Oh Shit, you like him don't you." Ino said, stressing on the word and wiggling her eyebrows, winking afterwards.

She burst into laughter at the sight, as did Sakura, for no specific reason save for the fact that they both found the blonde's facial expressions inexplicably hilarious at times- said blonde cursed loudly, jumping to keep Hinata's hair in place.

Once she'd finally calmed herself to a point where she was no longer in danger of bubbling into peals of laughter at a second's notice, and she trusted herself to speak again, she continued, "I'm screwed. I don't even know if I like him, and then there's Sasori."

A light touch to her shoulder lingered for a few seconds, and she let herself indulge in the small comfort for a change. "Hey, you don't need to do anything right now. Just figure out where things are going- you'll know what to do when you need to." Ino's words could, on occasion, be quite thoughtful, considerate.

"Plus, we're here for you. I'll beat Naruto into shape if he does something you don't like." Sakura added.

It had taken her a while to break the easy, enjoyable conversation between them and muster the will to address the issue of their kiss the previous night- especially when she found it such a pleasure to merely talk and interact with the blonde, learn more about his character- one which she was growing more and more fond of by the minute, but she'd eventually addressed the topic once they'd sat down at a cafe for lunch, tentatively checking if he actually knew that she was in a relationship.

"Naruto…what happened last night, you do know that I'm in a relationship, right?"

He'd nodded, not in the least surprised by her words, adding an, "I know"

"I'm not a cheat." She spoke firmly, hoping the implied meaning of her words would reach him.

He nodded, smiling as he said, "You're way too nice to be a cheat, Hinata. Break up with him, then."

She felt her eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the sudden boldness of his statement. "E-Excuse me?!"

"I mean, you know you want to." He added casually, as though her were commenting on something as trivial as the weather.

"We've been together for-"

"Two years, a campus item, yeah, I've heard." He dismissed her protests with a nonchalant shrug before he fixed her with another of his intense, smouldering looks as he continued, "You deserve to be with someone who doesn't need you to strip to think he loves you."

Through all their conversation that day, those lines keep mulling over in her head for the past week, even as she'd finally reached his apartment studio after Ino had deemed her hair satisfactory.

He'd opened the door and spent several minutes standing at the threshold, staring at the ornate flowers and design of her hair, before telling her that she looked stunning, leading her indoors.

Memories of her most recent fight with Sasori lay fresh in her mind, especially seeing as the entirety of that fight was based off her interactions with the blonde haired artist, but she'd made it clear to Naruto that she wasn't about to cheat on Sasori in any way, and he seemed insistent on remaining friends with her nonetheless; she wasn't about to stop talking to the man simply because Sasori decided to act all territorial all of a sudden.

And besides, no matter what Ino and Sakura said, regardless of how difficult Sasori was being, she wasn't about to go behind his back or do anything with the blonde haired artist who'd all but fascinated her in the last few weeks, was she?

"...Hinata?"

Her attention snapped back to the present as she caught the tail end of something he was trying to ask her.

"Sorry, were you saying something?" She asked, mentally pummelling herself for allowing her attention to slide so quickly.

"Just hoping you didn't mind the short notice with getting Ino to do your hair and everything, I really had this urge to have your hair done up traditionally when I paint it." He spoke, a somewhat sheepish grin on his face as he went about setting up his easel for the day, fishing around for his palette in the back of the room, going on to explain how he'd found out she was friends with the girls- and how he'd known Sakura since high school.

Sasori had overreacted, obviously- he'd heard about her modelling for a friend from the wrong sources, evidently, and had gotten the wrong idea about her agreeing to model for a different artist.

And she'd been in the wrong too, at least, suggesting they take a break when he was so worked up like that couldn't have ended well in any circumstances- especially not when he was being so forceful.

"..next to me? Hinata?" Naruto's low, piercing voice cut through her thoughts again, leaving her clueless as to what he'd been asking her yet again, and almost embarrassed by her lack of attentiveness.

Seeing the confused expression on her face, he seemed to understand the need to repeat himself, as he went on to say, "Do you want to come over and sit down next to me? I'm just about ready to start."

Taking a look at the stool sitting a few feet in front of where he was sitting, with his canvas angled so that he could see both her and his screen at the same time, she nodded, walking over to sit down in front of him, an action which was greeted by a nod of approval.

Sasori wasn't abusive, no he was far too smart for that, and she wasn't the type of pushover who would just take that kind of treatment. He wasn't emotionally abusive either, he knew she could lay it on him just as thick if he ever tried. Except…on nights like the one they'd fought most recently, when he'd been out at a bar with the guys, arguably more drunk than he should be, it was almost as though he was a different man.

When she'd suggested they take a break, he'd tried to strike her, yes. But she'd stopped him- wasn't that hard to catch a sluggish man's arm when aimed at her face. He'd apologise for it later, either way.

And, he'd resorted to taking his anger out on her in a different way when he'd dragged her to their bedroom against all protests, but he had apologised as soon as any semblance of common sense came upon him the next morning. They were still frosty with each other over her insistence on not listening to him when he'd asked her to stop meeting Naruto at all, but he had genuinely regretted forcing himself on her in the way he had.

It wasn't as though they couldn't get over it, after all?

And she understood Sasori in that she'd spent so much time with him, his psychological profile was one she knew like the back of her hand. He'd come around eventually, it would remain as another of those things they occasionally disagreed with, but he wouldn't try to control her life as though he owned her.

Which had been his claim the night he'd flipped out on her like that.

"…classes yet?" Naruto's voice interrupted the dark turn her thoughts had began taking yet again, leaving her absolutely clueless as to what question lay behind the warm smile he directed at her.

What had he said again? Something about his art classes?

"Are you enjoying the arts course on campus then?" She asked, trying to put together some semblance of an answer that could relate to his question.

The confused expression of worry on his face told her she'd somehow misinterpreted what he was trying to ask her.

"I mean, the classes are great yeah but Hinata, I was asking about your psychology course, are you ok? What's wrong?"

Oops. Play it cool, nothing's wrong.

"Shit, sorry Naruto, I've been spacing out too much today really. Nothing's wrong, I'm fine." She answered, schooling her features into a calm expression of candour.

"That's a lie and you know it as well as I do, what's been bothering you? You can trust me, you know." He said, the sincerity in his voice so powerful it had her just about willing to tell him everything.

But she couldn't, of course. She wasn't the type to share personal problems so offhandedly.

"It's fine. Really."

He didn't seem to believe her, and something told her he could almost sense the lie in her words, for there was nothing about the way she was speaking to make anyone believe that she was being anything but honest.

He leaned down to set his palette on the floor, stood up, and walked closer to her saying, "I can't bring myself to paint you knowing something's troubling you like this, really. Come sit down with me on the couch, maybe, and we can talk. I swear, you can tell me anything."

She looked up at him, not with any hint of distrust or suspicion, but a slight wariness. She didn't need any more reasons to like the blonde haired artist or his personality, she was already in danger of doing something she'd regret as it is, were it not her strong insistence to stick to her morals above all else.

But she did trust the man in front of her- he'd been nothing but kind to her, in fact, thinking back to the last time she'd left this apartment, he'd been much more than kind to her. And if she couldn't tell her girls about it, and she wouldn't tell him, then who could she tell? Contrary to popular belief, there really weren't that many people on campus she'd claim to trust, this particular artist was just…really quick to join the small number of people she could trust.

She let him lead her to the far end of the room, where his couch lay covered by a few white sheets. Pulling the sheets off, he plopped himself down on the worn green upholstery, beckoning for her to do the same.

Tentatively sitting down on the more comfortable, cushioned settee, she chanced a look at his face, trying to understand exactly what aspect of his nature would drive him to be so…insistent on having her open up to him like that. Was he truly being genuine? Or was this his way of convincing her to break up with Sasori like he'd hinted at the other day when they'd had lunch together?

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, somewhat ironically considering he'd all but demanded they sit and talk about whatever it was he thought was troubling her.

"Are you really going to let it slide if I say no?" She quipped, knowing his answer would be in the negative. He was too caring of others, clearly.

"What were you thinking about before I tried asking you that last question?" He asked, trying for a different approach, tilting his head back to where his canvas lay set up on the easel he was working on.

"Its nothing really, I had a little…quarrel…with Sasori. I was just sorting through facts in my head, that's all."

"A quarrel? You mean, like a fight? Shit, when? What happened?" He asked, barraging her with questions in a manner that almost seemed comparable to Ino, except his questions seemed a tad more considerate than Ino's blunt interrogation.

"He was out for a night with the guys and heard something he didn't like, really, it was no issue."

"What, did he hurt you?"

"God, no! I mean, he was drunk he wouldn't do anything like that on purpose. Really, it's not an issue." She said, stubbornly feeling the need to defend her own choice of company, rather than Sasori's character itself.

For in truth, she did feel violated, in a sense. She trusted Sasori, it was one of the only reasons why their relationship had lasted so long. But should she really, anymore ?

"He hurt you." His words seemed more like an angered statement more than a question anymore.

"Look Naruto, I know you mean well but, like I said the other day, I'm in this relationship of my own volition. I'm slightly distracted by the fight, yes, because the subject of the fight was you and yet here I am, spending time with a friend my boyfriend doesn't want me with in any way. I'm not about to listen to him on that, but I don't need you getting involved either. Am I clear?" She finished, trying to make sure she'd addressed everything he could possibly argue against and close the discussion here.

Apparently not, as he went on to say, "But, I just don't get it. Why are you with a man who you clearly don't love, you don't seem to trust either, who doesn't even respect you like you deserve?"

"What makes you say that?" She asked, an almost cold edge to her voice.

"Sasori's a lot like his painting style- it's real, and it's detailed, and if he's got the right picture it's even hauntingly beautiful. But that's the end of it. His paintings can't speak to you, make you feel anything when you look at them. That extends to his personality too, he's just not the kind of person who… his brush just can't do justice to someone with as vibrant and varied a personality as you, I just know you can't possibly be happy with how things are now. Do you even trust him?" His voice, though never mocking of the redhead, made a strong distaste for said artist clear.

And though she'd never think so ill of Sasori, she couldn't help but agree with parts of what Naruto was saying.

All of a sudden, she'd found herself with another insight into how the blonde's mind works, the way he view the world so differently, in terms of colours and emotions, rather than shapes and aesthetic appeal. And, in his explanation, she found a large part of her intrinsically looking upon her attitude towards Sasori in a new light. She didn't trust him, she didn't love him.

But she wasn't about to just leave him, was she?

Turning to look at the blonde next to her, and the intense, concerned furrow of his brow as he leaned over to look at her, she found a part of her resolve to defend Sasori crumble, along with the constant nagging of the topic on her mind in the first place.

The serenity on her face genuine this time, she turned to face him directly, saying, "Thank you, Naruto. But I think you've set my mind at ease for now. Do you want to go back to painting?"

And the confusion which came upon his face, coupled with the somewhat relieved expression as he seemed to realise she genuinely was considerably less troubled by whatever she was talking about to begin with, technically should have been the end of the conversation, with them returning to the canvas for him to finish recreating the image of her hair on the canvas with whatever strange twist he would add to it this time.

Somehow, however, it wasn't. They didn't return to the canvas until much later, by which time they had been talking for what could easily have been hours- she found herself sharing things about herself that not even Sasori, or the few girls she called friends knew. About her dead family, her sick sister. About the move from the North to the centre of the city, with just her cousin and sister, with one turning to find a job that could keep them with some semblance of security to fall back on if the small fortune their parents had left them with fell through. About how when her sister had been diagnosed, everything went into treating her. Neji had a secure job, yes. But the bills for her sisters health kept ratcheting upwards, to the point where she'd take up jobs like small scale modelling around the university and whatnot, to make ends meet. To the point where, even before she'd started dating Sasori she'd been living with her childhood friend, for lack of cheaper accommodation.

Her sister's illness was long term, and she hasn't told anyone about her family in so long, it almost seemed like an entirely different world compared to the confines of the university campus.

And he told her plenty in return- about where he was from, about the way he'd very nearly lost his parents too, about the way he'd spent the larger part of his childhood ostracised from the rest of the village, considered outsiders to the community they lived in. About the way he'd been labelled as a lost cause before he'd finally gained the people's acceptance- after which he'd moved to the university to carry on with the art he dedicated much of his life to.

When he'd finally finished painting her, having started at some point in the late afternoon, it was with great relief that she finally dismantled her hair from its ornate bun. He'd stepped out of the room for a glass of water, and left her to study the canvas he'd left behind.

A startlingly lifelike rendition of her hair hung in the middle of the canvas- complete with flowers and every intricacy of the updo Ino had created, except, the only part of her on the canvas was the hair. It hung, as though a skullless scalp sat in the middle of the dark canvas, the shadow cast by her hair visible in the surface below the hanging updo. The same kind of floral intricacies which lay buried in her hair, surrounded the rest of the canvas in intricately woven patterns of somber silver and regal gold, yet woven in a pattern which almost seemed to call to her.

A silent beckon, to give a face to the canvas, to break free from whatever restraints held her back.

What was he trying to tell her this time?

For she never looked at a canvas simply to appreciate the artwork…her pleasure always lay in exploring the mind of the artist.

When she finally stood at his doorway, in the same place where he'd kissed her as though she was his woman, not Sasori's, he dropped another bombshell on her, as he spoke.

"I think, we should stop doing this."

The look of confusion on her face lay second only to the shock, a stab of distress nagging at her gut as she realised where this was going.

"I mean, I said I'd pay you for your time and I'll still pay in full don't worry, plus it's not like I don't want your company I really, genuinely enjoy spending time with you, I just…you're clearly not happy with how things are with your boyfriend at the moment, and I don't want to be the reason why he hurts you believe me, I couldn't live with myself if I was. Just…it's probably for the better if we stop now, ne?" The expression of reluctance on his face made it easy for her to see through his excuses, he didn't want to stop painting her- his character simply demanded it of him.

And though it settled uncomfortably in her stomach as he said it, she decided to respect his wishes. It was the least she could do, after all.

Her nod of understanding hid the sliver of disappointment she tried to squash as she smiled politely, turning to leave as she called over her shoulder, "I'll see you around then."