A/N: Ah, Hedley. They recently replaced Sum 41 as toppers on my Favourite Canadian Bands list because of only one song. They were second in line before I heard that one song in my friend's car and now they're playing on repeat on my laptop.

So this is dedicated to my home, Canada (my Valentine this year), to my sister Catherine, whose boyfriend is leaving for two months tomorrow, as well as every single person on this planet who's missing someone special, or who just found that someone. Happy Valentine's, hope you're spending it with the most important person in your world.

Her Shirt and His Sweater

Sakura stood in the entrance of her apartment, her back against a wall, her arms crossed and her face scrunched into a frown that was only there to keep her tears on the inside. She glared at the luggage that lay on the floor of her living room, feeling the urge to kick it with her bare feet, as if it were alive and consciously (deliberately) sending her boyfriend away.

The living space was dark, although barely-there sunrise made it easy to see. It was early (four in the morning, maybe five), too early for her, or for anything, really. Her tired eyes travelled across the mess that was her couch, indicating that staying up late with her boyfriend to say a proper goodbye wasn't the best thing to do on leather, a thought to which she gave a half-hearted chuckle. Her university thesis lay forgotten on the small coffee table, next to a cup full of cold tea and two dirty bowls that probably contained some sort of dinner the previous evening, now empty and drying away. She couldn't remember much of her night, her mind at that time occupied by something else.

She heard shuffling somewhere in the small apartment. Footsteps approached her. She turned her head to the man that had just walked into the living room. He carried a pile of clothes, which he dumped into the large bag. He bent down to zip it closed and she walked to him. He stood up and looked into her eyes. She felt her bottom lip tremble and water rise up to her eyes, while her heart sped up and her cheeks caught fire.

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. She shut her eyelids and let tears run down her cheeks. At least she wasn't sobbing.

"Don't go," she pleaded. "Stay with me, Sasuke."

He stayed silent for a minute.

"You know I have to go," he finally replied.

"No, you don't," she said like a child. "Tell them you can't leave. Tell them you have a prior engagement and stay here."

He sighed. She knew it wasn't out of exasperation, but because he wanted to be able to grant her wish. He wanted to stay as much as she wanted him to, but he couldn't back out of his duty. This duty he had towards his country and his government. Not seeing his girlfriend for God knows how long for that was undoubtedly going to be painful, excruciating even, but he had to do it. It was the last mission he had to do, so he'd suffer through it.

"It won't be long, I promise," he said. "You won't see the time pass and I'll be back before you know it."

She sniffled into his sweater, taking his scent in. She'd seen him leave for army duty before, but it was the first time he was shipped away for that long, and it made it more difficult for her to accept his departure.

His hand trailed up and down her back while he buried his face into her dishevelled hair. She gripped his sweater, wishing she'd never have to let go.

They heard a car honk outside the house. It was his cue to leave. They slowly let go of each other and he picked up his bag. They walked to the front door, trying to stretch their time together longer. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, his free arm circling her shoulders. She snaked her hands up to his neck and face, pulling him as close as she could. Another loud honk broke their moment. She kept her hands on his cheeks and summoned what remained of her calm to look into his eyes without bawling like a lost child.

"Be prudent," she said softly, almost pleading. "Don't you dare die."

He chuckled.

"And don't flirt with any Iraqi women," she pouted, knowing the breakdown wasn't far and trying to refrain it with humour.

He chuckled again, although there wasn't anything funny about her request. She let go of his face.

"Here," she said, pulling her oversized university shirt over her head and handing it to him. "In case you feel alone while you're there."

He smiled, put his bag down and took off his sweater.

"For thunderstorms," he said simply, taking her shirt and putting his sweater into her hand.

She put it on over her bra, immediately immersing into his smell. She knew she would need it for more than thunderstorms. He took off the plain white shirt he had on and replaced it with her shirt. He picked up his bag once more, kissed her one last time and walked out the door, which he left open. She leaned against the doorframe and watched as he climbed into his best friend's minivan, the logo of her school saluting her on his back.

Sakura pounced on the phone. It had been weeks since she'd heard of him. She knew it could be good news but she dreaded the worst. It could be the army calling to tell her he'd been killed in action. It could also be someone else, a friend or a relative checking up on her. Her trembling hands almost let go of the mobile device when she yanked it off its base. She didn't look at the number.

"Hello?" She almost screamed.

"Sakura," he half-sighed in relief on the other side of the line.

"Sasuke! Thank God, you're safe," she blurted out, heart soaring and tears threatening to fall again. "What happened, why didn't you call?"

"Our line was cut. We had to move to another base," he explained, eager to change the subject.

"I miss you, Sasuke. Come home, please," she pleaded.

"I wish I could. You have no idea how much I do," he said, trying to soothe her.

"Did you get my letter?"

"Yes."

"I'm still wearing your sweater, day and night. Lucky I don't have school, I'd probably get weird looks and snide comments about the smell."

He laughed.

"Wait, was that creepy?"

"Not at all. I haven't taken your shirt off since I left. It smells of sweat and dirt, but I'd feel naked without it. The boys are complaining."

She giggled.

"You don't know how much better you make me feel," she said with a shaky voice.

"I'm guessing as better as you make me feel," he said, pausing for a moment. "I wrote you a song, with Naruto's guitar. I haven't had time to finish it yet, but I'll play it to you when I get home."

"I can't wait. Come home soon."

"I will."

She sat up with a start when the front door flew open.

"I'm home," she heard him say.

She jumped off the couch and hurled herself into his arms. He let his bag fall to the floor just in time to catch her. He kicked the door closed with his foot and covered her neck with kisses, carrying her to the living room where he set her down. She looked great. Her hair was slightly longer than he remembered and her face was glowing with her radiant smile.

"They said a few of us could leave sooner," he said. "I couldn't wait. That was way too long."

"Get over here," she grunted, pulling his head down to hers, crashing their lips together.

They kissed for all they were worth, gripping at clothes and pushing each other towards the bedroom at the back of the apartment. He yanked the sweater off of her. She wouldn't need it anymore. He'd be there during thunderstorms, now, she'd never have to endure the bad summer weather alone again. They plopped down on their bed. She pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it aside. Their bare skin tingled where it met, but to her (and probably to him, too), it felt as though they'd always been touching. It was more real now that he was home, but all the time he was gone, they hadn't let go of each other. Not really.

A/N: Based on Hedley's The Sweater Song from their new album, The Show Must Go. Hope you liked it. Review?