Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
The first thing Gaara wanted to do when he was released from prison was to eat a hamburger. This was a tradition for him. He had been in and out of lockup since he was fourteen and when he made it to the outside he always wanted the same thing: food. Real food.
This was usually where his problems arose. In order to buy food he had to first acquire the means to do so. The only thing Gaara owned was a one-bedroom apartment on the wrong side of town and the shirt on his back. Not only was he broke, but he also didn't exactly have skills to offer a potential employer. Most people didn't jump at the chance to hire a convicted felon.
His last job directly contributed to his last arrest. Gaara had been busing tables at a sports bar for minimum wage when he had a disagreement with a bar patron that ended when Gaara was taken away in handcuffs and his opponent was taken away in the back of an ambulance. The next thing he knew he was in a prison doing one to three years while the world around him only spun faster. He had only been on the outside for six months. He didn't even know why he bothered behaving when it was clear that prison was where he belonged.
So by the age of twenty-five Gaara was just another one of the city's deadbeats with anger management issues. He was a nobody. The world would probably be better off without him. Since the day he was born he had only caused violence and destruction. He was a monster and his only real purpose was to hurt people. It was just that simple.
He found a job with a loading company. He expected that they would overlook his record and focus on his family name. Usually, the idea of using his familial ties for any purpose would make him punch holes in the walls, but he needed a way to pay for utilities and living expenses. As much as he would hate to admit it, he was desperate for work. He was desperate for anything at this point. His life was devoid of hope and purpose. He didn't understand how he could be living on autopilot without even owning a car.
He didn't want to end up back in jail. He had never had a problem in the joint. He was respected by his fellow inmates and feared by the guards. There had been an incident in juvie back when he had less control over his temper, but the whole thing had been written off and Gaara labeled "emotionally disturbed". He didn't even know what those words meant. He pictured his emotions lying sleeping in a bed only to be disturbed by the sounds of gunshot.
He didn't want to end up back in jail but he was having a difficult time adjusting to freedom. He woke up at the same time every day and went to sleep at the same time too. He was wary of the people on the streets around him. He assumed everyone was just another criminal. After the initial novelty of being able to eat edible food wore off he realized that he didn't have enough money to continue eating out for every meal. He ended up eating the same bland tasting microwavable dinners. Cooking real food was out of the question because he didn't own a stovetop or oven. His refrigerator was on its last leg too. He didn't have enough money to buy new appliances. He couldn't afford anything new. Some might call it living simply and some might call it living in poverty. Gaara didn't know the difference. He couldn't remember life before prison.
That wasn't quite true. He had vague memories of his family. They had lived in a pent house on the fiftieth floor. There had been a sister and a brother- two people who generally ignored his existence. There had been his father- a cruel man. But the part that was the haziest was his uncle and… a knife. His mother was conspicuously absent from his memories. She was the forbidden topic. He imagined that now he was the forbidden topic too.
The wind chill made the temperature feel well below zero degrees. Gaara wished that he had a heavier coat. The one he was wearing he had gotten at a Goodwill for fifteen dollars. It had taken him forever to find one that fit and by that point he didn't care what the coat was made out of as long as it was big enough to cover his tall frame. On the way to the bus stop he saw a homeless man insulating his jacket with wads of bunched up newspaper. Gaara seriously considered following his example but in the end his pride was too great. At least he had his Gor-tex gloves his boss had given him and the rest of the men on his shift. His greatest fear was losing his fingers to frost bite.
There were things about himself that he could never understand. There were habits that he couldn't explain. He kept his apartment meticulously clean and organized. He would never speak unless spoken to. His heart raced and blooded rushed to his fists whenever he saw someone pull a knife- even for culinary purposes. He couldn't stand the taste of alcohol or the smell of cigarettes. He was overtaken by a wave of envy whenever he saw children playing carefree in the park. He couldn't trust anyone but himself. He didn't lie, he didn't cheat and he didn't steal. It just wasn't in his nature.
He sat on the bus next to a businessman and a prep school brat. Both were careful to never make eye contact with him. Gaara didn't mind. He was busy staring at the leggy blond out of the corners of his eyes while pretending to read the newspaper. He wondered how someone so attractive could be so stupid. The warmest piece of clothing she was wearing was probably her tall boots. The rest of her ensemble was skintight and the material no thicker than cotton. He was amazed to see that she wasn't even shivering.
She was not at all like the marshmallow sitting beside her. Gaara assumed that she was a girl because her scarf, gloves, hat and floppy purse were all pink. But with all but her pink nose obscured by wool and fleece, and her body hidden beneath a full length down coat, he couldn't tell much about her. In his mind she was a forty-year-old hag with saddlebags and frizzy hair. Staying warm was one thing but covering up to that extent meant that you were trying to conceal something. He was much more content to look at the skimpily dressed woman especially after she gave him a long once over and sly smile.
The bus stopped and an old woman boarded. Gaara instinctively stood up to offer her his seat. This was another strange habit of his.
He folded the newspaper and stuffed it in his coat. He held on to the metal pole and resolved to stare out the window until they made it back to his building. The streets could be and entertaining and distracting if you watched closely enough. The real distraction came when he felt something graze his thighs. His eyes dropped down and found manicured nails scratching him lightly on the outside of his workman's jeans.
"You're such a gentleman. It's nice to see chivalry isn't dead," purred the blond woman.
Gaara smirked. He was hardly a people person but he seemed to have a way with women, a certain kind of woman. He didn't like nice girls or girly girls. He wasn't capable of caring for another human being. The last thing he wanted was a girlfriend, so he could deal well with women who weren't looking for boyfriends. The woman in front of him was looking for something but it wasn't commitment. "I'm not really much of a gentleman," he told her.
"Oh?" she raised and eyebrow. "You're a bad boy?"
He could play this game if it got him what he wanted. "I have redeeming qualities…"
Oh god. Sakura put her gloved hand in front of her mouth and coughed to hide her snort, though she was sure that her voice was muffled under her pink scarf. She didn't know that this kind of thing happened outside of the realm of TV and movies. Who knew that in the real world attractive strangers met in everyday places and arranged to have wild anonymous sex? Sakura figured that it was one of the responsibilities of being a beautiful person.
"So what do you do?" asked the woman in the Burberry coat and Sergio Rossi suede over the knee boots.
Sakura could tell from her tone that she wasn't actually interested in this information.
"Whatever I want," replied the red haired man.
There was something dangerous about him. He was devastatingly handsome. His hair wasn't the typical coppery hue that was expected of redheads. No, his hair was more of a rusty red. It fell messily in his eyes, which told Sakura that he wasn't the type of man who cared about style and vanity. He was effortlessly good looking. His face was perfectly symmetrical and chances were that he could care less.
"I'm a yoga instructor," said the woman.
Sakura rolled her eyes. Of course she was. She had a perfect body so why not? Those two were going back to her apartment and have crazy steamy jungle sex. She could make herself into a human pretzel and he probably had marathon endurance and resilience. All Sakura had waiting for her at home was a goldfish and a basket of laundry that needed to be folded. But, that was just fine by her. She didn't have time for a relationship and everyone knew that one night stands led to STDs. That was something that she could live without.
She really should have taken a cab home. As entertaining as it was to watch an episode of Sex and the City unfold in front of her, she was exhausted and her nose was cold. She didn't need any more reminders that her life was boring and that no strangers wanted to take her home.
Oh god. Her hand was on the inside of his thigh. Couldn't these two wait another twenty minutes? They had just met. They were acting like horny teenagers. It was appalling.
The bus came to a sudden halt and Sakura had to hold herself to keep from flying out of her chair. The commotion that erupted on the bus was nothing compared to the chaos outside. Sakura was used to the sound of cars honking and car alarms so it was the explosions and screaming that startled her. She peered out the window and saw crowds of panicking people abandoning their cars and fleeing to the buildings and side streets. The next thing Sakura knew she was being pushed off the bus by the other passengers and dumped into the streets where she was shoved and jostled every which way.
Sakura was smart. In her entire life she had never gotten anything lower than an 'A' minus. But Sakura was also very, very stupid and she often let curiosity get the better of herself. While everyone was running away from the explosion she was running towards it. She pushed through the tides of people and arrived just in time to see the red haired man rescue a child out of the burning wreck of a dilapidated building.
Who was this man that he could run so fearlessly into fire? Why was everyone just standing in a ring around him and not making a move to help him? Sakura strode forward intent on somehow doing her part when the little boy that the man had just saved came barreling forward and wrapped his arms around her legs.
"Mommy!" the he cried. "Mommy, Baby Brother is still inside!"
Sakura's eyes widened and her head shot up. "There's a baby in there!" she shouted to the red haired man.
"Fuck," Gaara cursed under his breath. It didn't make sense. He had seen the fire and heard the kid screaming and then… he was charging into the flames and pulling the brat out. He could barely feel the heat but his brain was still melting. He had to save the other kid.
Sakura watched the red haired man disappear through the smoke. She wasn't sure whether to encourage him or yell for him to wait for the fire department. She could hear the sirens in the distance growing louder but she didn't know if there was enough time to wait. She took a deep breath and bent down to comfort the frightened child. She prayed that all parties concerned would escape with their lives.
"You're not Mommy," whined the child.
Sakura's heart stopped. "Is Mommy still inside?"
"No," the child shook his head. "Mommy went to Auntie's house. It's my job to watch Baby Brother."
Putting a four year old in charge of watching a baby? How could anyone be so irresponsible? You couldn't give that job to someone so young. Sakura was outraged. She reached out and gave the little boy a hug. "It's okay," she lied. "I'm sure he is going to be okay, and Mommy will be back soon."
The fire trucks and ambulances finally pulled up as a figure emerged from the black fumes. Sakura was flooded with relief. Both man and the baby were alive. The paramedics swooped in and intercepted the pair. Sakura watched them pull the man and baby into the back of an ambulance while the firefighters got to work with the hoses.
"C'mon," Sakura picked up the child and carried him over to the ambulance. "We've got to get you checked out."
"Was this little guy in the fire too?" asked a woman in a green uniform.
Sakura handed the boy over to the woman. "Yes, but not for so long I don't think."
"Are you a relative of his?" asked the woman as she passed the boy over to another uniformed woman inside of the truck.
"Oh no." Sakura breathed a sigh. "I was just passing through." She looked to her left and saw the red haired man attempting to shove off a paramedic with an oxygen mask. He was a tough guy it would seem. And yet, she was intrigued. He was a true hero. Ordinary men don't just rush into burning buildings. There was something about this red haired man that made her want to unwrap him and examine him closely. He had to be someone worth knowing.
Gaara seriously wished that the annoying man with the mask would take a step back. He didn't need oxygen he needed air. He needed the cold night's air to fill his lungs so he could breath again. Some god somewhere must have mistaken him for someone else because miraculously there wasn't a burn or scratch on his body. What in the hell had he just done?
He wasn't a good man and he was certainly no hero either. He didn't save those children because he wanted to do the right thing; he did it because… it had to be done. Someone had to save them, so why not the jailbird who had nothing left to lose? It wasn't about striving for the greater good or paying his debt to society. It was just a natural response. A job needed to be done so he did it. Simple.
He took his gloves off and kissed them. They were the ones that truly saved those kids. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. The adrenaline hadn't worn off yet and he was still buzzing. Behind him TV station vans were starting to arrive. That was his cue to jet. The last thing he wanted was some bitch shoving a microphone in his face. He looked around to see if that hot yoga chick was somewhere in the mess but he couldn't find her. He groaned inwardly. He had actually been looking forward to that. Getting laid was the second best part of not being in the slammer.
He was too busy scanning the crowd for the possibility of sex to notice he was walking straight into marshmallow-hag. She had a substantial amount of padding to break her fall so he didn't feel guilty when he knocked her down.
"Wait!" The marshmallow called as he tried to walk away. "Wait!"
Gaara turned around and looked at her expectantly. "What?"
The marshmallow picked herself off the ground and steadied herself. "My friend owns a restaurant a block down from here. Are you interested in getting some free food?"
Hell yes he was interested in free food, but free food with this hag? Was it really worth it? "What kind of food?" he asked tentatively.
"Steak," replied the marshmallow.
"Yes," he said automatically. His mouth was watering already. He hadn't eaten all day. The idea of free steak made running into a burning building feel worth it. He just hoped that the marshmallow-hag wasn't going to get any funny ideas. He didn't want her to think she was going to play Lois Lane to his non-existent Clark Kent.
They walked to the restaurant in silence and kept a good pace between them. Sakura wanted to say something but he seemed so closed off that she didn't know whether or not she would have any success. She decided that conversation could wait until they were someplace indoors and warm.
"Hello, Megumi!" Sakura greeted the maître d' cheerfully. "Can I have my regular table please?"
"Of course you can," Megumi replied. "Choji is here tonight and he'd love to say hello to you."
"Hooray!" Sakura smiled brightly. She loved it when she was able to see her old friends. Choji owned several restaurants through out the city but she was glad he was at this particular one at the same time she was. She hadn't gotten a chance to talk to him since he had proposed to her best friend. The wedding date was scheduled for the first day of spring. Sakura couldn't wait to be the maid of honor.
Gaara followed the marshmallow to the table and tried not to lose his appetite. There was something about her upbeat attitude that nauseated him. He sincerely hoped that she would tone it down a little bit.
He slid into the booth that the hostess girl with funky pigtails had led them to and waited for the marshmallow to follow suit.
"Ah!" she slapped the hat covering her forehead. "I was wondering why it was so hot in here. I need to take my coat off."
Gaara was vaguely interested now. There was a one in a million chance that she would be decent looking. There was a one in a million chance that he was going to get lucky tonight. He watched her hang her scarf and hat on the hook on the outer wall of the booth, waiting for her to unzip the puffy coat. When she finally emerged he fought the urge to bang his head on the table in front of him. Was she trying to deter men from ever putting her and sex in the same train of thought? She was hideous! He was sure that this had to be some kind of sick joke.
Her chin length pink hair was unkempt and stuck out at odd angles, fastened under a floppy red felt bow. Gaara's gaze lowered and he tried hard not to wince. It looked as if a craft store had barfed on her phlegm green sweater. It was covered in an array of colorful buttons, snaps, and beads. Her shapeless denim skirt reached down to her ankles, stopping just short of her frilly white socks and purple wooden clogs.
"That's better," said Sakura, feeling much cooler. She tilted her head to the side and smiled. "My name is Sakura."
The red haired man did not return her smile. "Gaara," he replied shortly.
"That's a lovely name!" Sakura exclaimed, sitting down across from him. She bit her lip. It didn't seem to her like he was very enthusiastic about being at dinner with her. It might have just been her imagination but she could have sworn the man was sneering at her. Had she made a mistake? He had no reason to resent her.
"Thank you," said Gaara tonelessly.
Sakura sighed inwardly. At least he was polite. It was okay if he was turning his nose up at her kindness as long as he wasn't being too much of a jerk about it. She was used to this kind of treatment. It was typical for a man to be studying the back of his hand rather than her face. Luckily the waiter arrived just in time to save them from what was about to become and awkward silence.
"It's great to see you, Sakura." The waiter patted her shoulder. "The usual?"
"For me yes," she answered. "But can you bring an extra large steak for my new friend?"
Gaara narrowed his eyes. Who the hell was she calling her "new friend"? She couldn't be referring to him. He was hoping that after tonight he would never have to see or be seen with this girl again. He didn't care what anyone else thought of him, but he still didn't want people to see him with such an eyesore.
"So where do you work?" Sakura asked him after the waiter had left with their orders.
"The shipping yard." He didn't want this girl to know anything about his personal life so he was going to give her as little information as possible. At least until he was done eating. Then he would thank her and get the hell out of there.
"Oh, that sounds like fun." Sakura smiled again. "I work at a medical library."
That sounded about right to Gaara. "You're a librarian?"
Sakura shook her head. "Nope. I'm head librarian," she pointed her thumb at her chest. "I'm in charge."
Whoopty freakin' doo. "How nice," said Gaara. Now when was the red meat going to show up?
She kept talking about… the Dewey Decimal System, or whatever it was nerdy librarians talked about. Gaara completely zoned her out. Nerdy girls were the worst. He had only spent three months in high school and his memories of that period weren't the sharpest, but he remembered that there were reasons why brainy kids didn't have friends. They were always so concerned with following the rules. The nerd across from him would probably pee her pants if she knew that she had invited a felon out to dinner. She would never understand what it felt like to act out. But the worst part about nerdy girls was that they were weak. They let people walk all over them. They waited to be saved.
When the waiter finally put the plate of steaming food down in front of him Gaara was sure that his stomach was going to digest itself. Food had never excited him this much before in his life. He was also glad that the nerd would be too busy chewing to keep up the pointless chatter.
Apparently if there wasn't the promise of sexual intercourse at the end then the man, Gaara, didn't feel obligated to make conversation. The silence had begun to grate on Sakura's nerves. If Gaara didn't want to say anything she would have to say enough for the both of them. Besides, she was doing him a favor. You never knew when information about the filing of medical records would come in handy. He could go on a games show and they might ask him. Thanks to her, he would know the answer.
She couldn't wrap her head around him. Was he a sleazy jerk or was he a hero? She was certain that he was not a bad person. Sakura was a good judge of character and she could often times read people better than they could read themselves. Gaara was a good man but he was troubled. He wasn't aloof by nature. Life had done this to him. His job probably entailed little human interaction. He didn't have friends. He didn't have a girlfriend. His family was estranged. Something made him feel that he was outsider and society wouldn't accept him. It was obvious from his clothes and job description that he didn't have a lot of money, but some of his mannerisms suggested that he had grown up in an upper-class family. Sakura chewed her food thoughtfully. He was complicated.
Apparently he was also starving. Sakura tried not to stare. The man was inhaling his steak. But it made sense. Someone with such muscular forearms needed protein. He was finished with his food before she was even halfway through with hers. She hoped this didn't embarrass him. She had only ordered her favorite salad and he had been brought out a steak the size of Russia. But Sakura didn't love this particular restaurant for its entrees. She looked up from her salad bowl when she heard the thump of a heavy plate hitting the table. Her eyes widened. "Choji!" She cried happily. "Cherry cheesecake! My favorite!" She rushed to her feet so she could hug her friend.
Choji laughed. "It's the least I could do. If it weren't for your encouragement I would have never had the guts to propose to Ino."
Ino was the best friend Sakura could ever have asked for. They were complete and total opposites but they had real chemistry. They had been friends since kindergarten and they really brought out the best in each other.
Ino had earned a masters in clinical psychology with a focus anxiety disorders. She spent most of her time playing therapist to overwhelmed middle-aged women and teenage girls. One of her few male clients was a popular fashion designer who decided he was inspired by Ino's powder blue eyes and platinum blond hair. He designed a wardrobe just for her and gave her tickets to all of the hottest fashion premiers. Ino was always dragging Sakura along to these events and consequently the young librarian was an unwittingly fashion expert. She never applied any of this knowledge to her own wardrobe and instead chose to wear whatever clothes were the most practical and fit her the best. She tried to mimic the wardrobes of the other ladies working in the library. Her sweater was a present from one of her mentors. Ino sometimes teased Sakura about her clothes but Sakura truly believed that these outfits made her a more competent librarian.
Ino and Sakura had supported each other through bad break ups and disappointment after disappointment. When Ino finally agreed to date her long time friend Choji, Sakura knew that Ino had found the perfect man to spend the rest of her life with. They were two people that new everything about each other and accepted it all, the good and the bad. They were a match made in heaven.
"Well," Sakura said with a wide smile. "They call me the goddess of love."
Gaara almost choked. He doubted that anyone referred to her by that title. He watched her converse with the fat man not bothering to hide his disinterest. The two friends acted as if he weren't even there. He was used to being invisible and he preferred it this way. The cheesecake held his real attention. His stomach was full but he always had room for dessert. Something about the idea of a girl named Sakura eating a cherry cake made him want to groan in annoyance.
An emergency in the kitchen forced Choji away before Sakura could introduce him to Gaara. She knew that Gaara wouldn't mind but she still regretted being rude.
The cake was small so they split it in two. Sakura let Gaara have the bigger half. They spent the rest of the meal in silence mostly because Sakura was tired and didn't have the energy to care. It was late and she had work in the morning.
Sakura loved her job. The library took her on when she was in med school and needed a little money. It soon became clear to her that she was better at medical theory than at practice. When she graduated she didn't want to have to give up her position at the library. She had been promoted several times since she started working there. In the end she decided not to start a hospital internship and instead took library science courses at a near by university while continuing her work. Her library even paid for her schooling. Sakura couldn't be more satisfied with her career. She looked forward to going to work every day.
Gaara felt slightly ashamed when he didn't have any money to contribute to the tip. To his relief the nerd didn't seem to notice and didn't mention it either. As ghastly as she was, Gaara didn't like the idea of a woman paying for his meal. It made him feel worthless. If he didn't even have ten dollars to contribute to the tip of a free dinner then what was he living for? He was starting to regret eating so much so fast.
He watched her step back into her fat suit and disappear under the layers of fabric. His stomach sank even further when he realized that it was probably even colder outside than it was before they had entered the restaurant. He tried not to think about how painful the walk from the bus stop to his apartment was going to be.
The nerd led him to the front of the restaurant and exchanged farewells with the hostess. Gaara thanked the girl with the strange pigtails too and together he and the nerd walked out onto the street.
"That was really yummy," said the nerdy girl.
"Yes. Thank you." Gaara's words had an air of formality to them.
The nerdy girl waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "You saved kids from a burning building. Thank you."
Gaara wasn't sure what to say. He didn't do it for the reasons she thought he did. He wasn't a hero he was a criminal. It was a fluke. There was nothing inside of him that wanted to be a savior. It was the opposite. He was a natural villain. "Okay." He reached into his pockets and pulled out his gloves.
"Well," said the nerdy girl. "My apartment is just a few block away," she said, pointing the right of them.
That was good. He pointed in the opposite direction. "My bus stop is over there."
"Right." Sakura nodded. There was really nothing left to say. She wasn't so delusional that she thought they would exchange any kind of contact information. He made it abundantly clear that he wasn't the least bit interested in her. But, that was just fine with her. He wasn't really her type. "Goodbye then."
"Yeah," he said. "Bye."
Sakura turned around and started the walk to her apartment. She hadn't realized before how eager she was to take a hot shower and get to bed. She needed sleep to wash this strange encounter from her head.
Gaara wasn't sure what it was that made him turn and look back at her retreating form. He didn't see her at all. All he saw was the silvery glint of the blade the dark figure stepping out of the alley held in his hand. Gaara started to see red. "Sakura!" he shouted, racing towards her. "Sakura!" He wasn't going to make it there in time. The nerdy girl didn't stand a chance. Gaara watched the dark figure lunge at her and then…
"Hell no!" Sakura yelled when she finally realized that she was about to become a victim. So Sakura did what Sakura did best. She punched the son of a bitch square in the jaw with all of her might and watched him crumple to the ground.
Gaara's legs almost gave under him. She pummeled him. The nerdy girl sent the attacker flying. He couldn't believe what he had just seen. The nerdy girl kicked his ass.
"Can you believe this city?" she laughed. "It's just crawling with cockroaches."
Gaara made it to the girl and breathlessly stared down at the would-be attacker. She had knocked a tooth right out of his mouth. He was unconscious. Breathing, but still unconscious. He looked up at her incredulously. "You punched him."
"Well, yeah…" she laughed again. "In case you missed it, he was going to mug me. What was I supposed to do?"
Gaara was at a loss for words. The man at their feet was at least six foot and two hundred pounds. The nerdy girl was tiny in comparison. How on earth was she strong enough to take him down? It defied the laws of nature. She didn't look the slightest bit muscular. When she had finally taken off the coat he had noticed that if anything she was thinner than he anticipated.
"Aw, man." She held up her fist. "He got blood on my mitten! What an asshole."
That was what she felt remorseful about? She didn't care about how miserable that fool on the ground was going to feel when he woke up. Not that Gaara was concerned for the attacker, but he was sure that the nerdy girl would be. She was supposed to have strong morals and be overly compassionate.
"Oh well." She stepped over his body. "I've got to get out of here now."
Gaara was still having trouble comprehending what had just transpired. She was just going to leave now? "You have to call the police or something."
"Are you kidding me?" The girl shook her head. "The cops in this city are morons." She shifted awkwardly. "Besides, I've been arrested before and I've got a record. I can't afford to get mixed up in this. I don't have the time for more community service and I don't want to go to prison."
Gaara squinted. "Wait, what?" Did he just hear her say that she had been arrested before?
The nerdy girl shrugged. "You know, in case I gave him brain damage or something. They're not going to believe me if I say it was self defense again."
Gaara's ears had to be deceiving him. What did she mean by "again"? What the hell was going on here? "Oh," he said lamely.
The girl sighed. "Like I said. I should really be getting out of here. I need to burn these mittens. So, bye then."
"Bye…" Gaara said, still trying to figure out what was going on. Nerdy girl had a record? Seriously? He watched her begin to walk away with a mixture of bewilderment and awe.
Sakura felt a headache coming on. Why was she a magnet for muggers, attackers, and rapists? How many times did she have to beat them up before word got around to leave the girl with pink hair alone? She stopped walking when she realized that if it had not been for Gaara's warning she might not have been able to react in time. She turned around and ran back up to him.
"Thanks for the heads up," she told him. "It could have been bad if you hadn't said something." She unwound her pink cashmere scarf from her neck and wrapped it around his. "Take care of yourself. It's cold outside tonight."
Gaara watched her leave for the third time and knew that this time she wouldn't be turning back. Her scarf around his neck was still warm from her body heat. He leaned down and pressed his nose into the soft material. He expected it to smell like cherries and old books, but when it didn't he felt his mind fog up. The scent was raspberries and gardenias, summery and slightly sensual. Nothing about this girl made any sense.
Who was the girl he had just shared a meal with? A hag? A nerd? A librarian? A badass? Was it her perfume or shampoo that smelled so tantalizing and sweet? It occurred to him that what he was feeling was amazement. She might just have been the most mystifying person he had ever met.
The world was just full of surprises.
I GET IT. I GET IT. I GET IT. You want PWK. You all really want PWK. I'm half way through it. My lj friends can attest to that. I've gotten into the habit of posting pieces of chapters or testing whole chapters of new stories there first. Rest assured. When the full chapter of PWK is finished, which it will be soon hopefully, HERE is where it will be post first ASAP. Like the second I finish typing it I will post. Scouts honor.
Anyways. Do you like this story at all? I was inspired during class and I wrote it instead of paying attention to the lecture. I think I'm going to fail but... whatev :p I have this really cute story playing out in my head and I just had to get the first chapter written out so I could share the story with everyone. I don't remember seeing anything like this posted so I'm not sure if this is the kind of plot/story/characterization that people enjoyed reading. I just love writing about characters who wear masks. OMG I SHOULD WRITE A MASQUERADE STORY! That would be freaking awesome!
Oh boy I have class in the morning I've got to get to sleep!
PLEASE review. Seriously. Let me know if you like it. I won't be writing another chapter of this one until I get the next chapter of PWK posted but I really want to write some more eventually and it helps if I know that there are actually people who want to read it. So PLEASE review.
THANKS FOR READING :)