This was a bitch to write. Seriously. Over a week of slaving away. But I honestly could not write anything else until I got this off my chest. It was inspired by the song For the First Time by The Script, and looking back, this doesn't resemble the initial picture in my head at all. But it's done, so I'm happy :)

Dedication: Picassa Phantom. You're gorgeous and an absolute sweetheart :) x
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, so you can't sue me for that at least ^_^

.:{I}:.

Hallelujah

.:{I}:.

The streets were idle in the early weekday pre-dawn. There was nothing special about it. An acidic haze crept through the streets, adding to the already ghostly look that haunted the town. People with their families and their normality slept peacefully in warm beds, in warm homes, where worry and pain and suffering was as unknown as dust. All the lights were out.

But the nightlife was high.

The thrumming music washed away dignity and responsibility and identity, and three girls who were usually oppressed by all three let it all fall from their bodies like leaves in autumn. Dignity had no place where the air was down and dirty and hot. Where the skirts were short and lust was shorter and eyes roamed like hawks.

They called it freedom.

A kiss, though previously deemed sacred, was soon defined as nothing more than a touch of lips to the previously reserved Hinata. Who knew that crowds and loudness and heat could make her feel so alive? She smiled and laughed at her pink haired friend, who was pressed back to chest against a black haired, black eyed male. Sakura looked completely at ease, though usually she would've punched him for being so close. But what was worry or care when her blood was pumping like drums in her veins?

She felt arms wrap around her waist and warm air breathe on the back of her neck, and she smiled, enjoying the attention from the stranger.

"Hinata!" a voice screamed, and said girl turned pearlescent eyes towards the sound, grinning as a brunette came into view.

"Tenten," she acknowledged with an intoxicated giggle, kissing her on the lips in her own new greeting. For what's a kiss when you're high on life?

There was a possessive growl in her ear, and another inebriated giggle slipped past her lips as muscled arms wrapped around Tenten's waist and pulled the brunette away to sacred corners.

Curiosity finally becoming prevalent in Hinata's mind, she turned towards the man who had wrapped her in tight arms, only to come face to face with an aqua eyed, red haired male. He smelt strongly of alcohol, though as far as the drunken girl could tell, he was able to hold it quite well – he didn't sway on his feet or cross his eyes. He just stood there in a halo of blood-red hair and flawless skin, staring at her like a blind man seeing light for the first time.

She found that she liked the attention. So she kissed him too.

For what was a kiss in a world where dawn could be dusk and music was like marijuana?

A soft giggle danced past grinning lips as a hungry smirk tore across his mouth, and he yanked her close again, immediately slanting his lips across hers once more.

Hinata pulled away after a moment or so, placing a shaking hand between their mouths so he couldn't close the gap and prevent words from confusing the situation.

"No, no," she hiccupped, eyeing the lust glinting dangerously in his eyes enthusiastically. "I don't know you," she explained. "Not good, see. Not good." She nodded, like the act could convince her of the wrongness (even though it felt sinfully right).

He smirked again, a little bit of white shining behind scarlet lips, and pulled her close against his body.

"My name is Gaara, and I want to fuck you," he stated. Being crudely blunt was just accepted as the norm whilst in an alcohol induced stupor.

"My name is Hinata, and I would like to be fucked," she replied, not caring for such trivial matters like consequences. Besides, Gaara was hot, and she was horny. It just seemed like the right thing to do, really.

She learned that the world made more sense when seen through alcohol's eyes.

Triumph flitted through his eyes, and he pushed his mouth on hers again, briefly brushing his tongue through the joined orifices to increase desire, not that he needed to. The sole reason for Hinata being there was to cause regret and to forget. Forget the blond haired boy who'd stolen her heart by accident and shattered it after accepting it. Forgetfulness seemed oddly tempting, really.

"You're not a virgin, are you?" he queried, the question sounding strangely formal in such a fucked up society.

"No," she assured, and followed him as he led her from the club. She spotted both her friends in the arms of attractive males, and could only smile for them; it seemed that they would all get lucky.

The door to his small apartment hadn't even closed before he was pushing her against a wall and running his hands all over her body. They were strangers, and she was quite sure that he at least knew the perks of meaningless sex. Hinata had yet to explore that, but she was quite excited to; meaningless sex had to be better than that cruel world of making love. They stumbled to the bedroom, their clothes dropping like rain in spring through the thin corridor. When they got to the bed, they were already naked, and he wasted no time pushing straight into her.

Hinata groaned as the feeling of being filled completely enveloped her. He was larger than normal, which she thanked all the heavens for, and was thick enough to create an incredible stretching sensation.

"You on the pill?" he breathed in her ear, and she nodded, bucking her hips in the silent language of fuck me already!

He complied readily enough, and drove her into bliss and forget.

.:{l}:.

The next morning burnt like a new light bulb, and blinding sunlight flooded the room through the musty window. Hinata groaned, feeling her hangover hit her as hard as a brick. What on earth had happened last night? She froze as a second groan sounded next to her ear and arms she hadn't previously registered tightened their hold about her waist.

And that was when she became aware of skin. Someone else's bare chest pressed against her own bare chest. Someone else's legs twined with her own bare legs. Someone else's stomach against her own bare stomach.

Hinata opened her eyes, and came face to face with a sleeping (ridiculously attractive) red headed male. And screamed.

The unknown male promptly woke up, flailed, and fell right off the bed, stark naked. Hinata sat up; blankets pulled right up to cover her chest, and stared in horror down at him.

"Who are you?" she demanded, hangover temporarily forgotten in wake of fear. "Where am I? Did… did we -?"

"Fuck? Yeah," he said, hand held up to his pounding head as his own hangover screamed its protestation. "Why the hell did you scream like that? Don't you remember last night?"

She shook her head, leaning her brow against her knees. "Shit," she cursed, desperately trying to push back the fog of alcohol-induced confusion. "Where am I?"

"My apartment."

She managed to shoot him a glare. "Who are you?"

"Gaara. Now shut up for a minute."

She closed her eyes and pretended that everything was some sort of fucked up nightmare. Well, she wanted regret, didn't she? She would've celebrated achieving something if it was something to be celebrated. Unfortunately, she'd slept with a complete stranger. A complete stranger, who she'd never met before. There were no condoms around and he could have a freaking STD! Oh Gods, STD's, what if he had an STD?

"Do you have an STD?"

He shot her an offended look. "No. You?"

"NO!"

"Stop shouting!"

"I'm sorry!"

His shoulders twitched with pent up aggravation before he took a deep breath to calm himself down. "I need coffee."

She nodded her head in agreement and heard him get up to exit the room. She would have followed, but she was no longer intoxicated enough to walk around without clothes on. A few moments later, a partially clothed Gaara chucked some of her discarded clothes into the room, a silent request for her to get dressed in the action. Hinata willingly acquiesced and quickly scrambled into the borrowed bedraggled clothing, desperately attempting to ignore the screaming ache in her brain. Something about the pounding reminded her of the word coffee, and suddenly she realised that she'd never craved anything more than coffee in that moment. She rose from the bed and followed the sound of the whirring kettle.

His back was to her, and she took a moment to admire the rippling muscles beneath flawless pale skin. She couldn't fault her drunken self on taste, at least. His boxers hung low on his hips, showing two dimples in the small of his back, and when he turned around her mouth began to water as the V lines leading to his crotch were shown. Dear Gods he had one hell of a body!

"Like what you see?" he asked, smirking at her as he caught her checking him out.

"Maybe," she hedged, returning his grin and sat down opposite him to cup the full coffee mug with her hands. She took a sip of the strong, sweet sludge and almost immediately felt her headache begin to lessen. "Thanks." She nodded at the coffee in gratitude and raised the mug to her lips once again. As she put it down, she shot him another question. "Do you remember last night?"

He nodded. "Vaguely."

"Good fuck or bad fuck?"

He smirked, jolting a sleepy memory. "Good fuck. Definitely a good fuck."

She huffed in weary amusement. "Glad one of us remembers."

"You are on the pill, right?"

She nodded. "Didn't you check last night?"

"Just wanted to be sure."

There was a strangely comfortable silence as they washed away their hangover with liquid caffeine. Even if she couldn't remember the previous night, her body was still tingling with remnants of ecstasy, so she had to believe him when he described it as good fuck. If only the pounding in her head would completely dissipate.

"So you don't remember anything?" he asked when the coffee mugs had become as empty as the silence.

"Nup," she replied, letting the p pop against her lips. "The club's about it. First few drinks, then I'm blank."

"You haven't had a one night stand before, have you?"

"That obvious?"

"No, but you've got bad breakup vibes. And no one ever sticks around after a one night stand. They generally try and avoid the morning awkwardness."

She shrugged. "Guess I fell asleep."

"Hm," he hummed. She was glad that he didn't ask her about her breakup. It was a wound she wasn't quite ready to open just yet.

"So that's a forget fuck?"

"You could say that."

He chuckled. "You've certainly forgotten something."

Hinata groaned and rubbed her eye with the bottom of her palm. "Don't remind me."

"I can't remind you of anything if you've forgotten everything."

She glared at him, and he just shot her another of his infuriating smirks, before another look glinted in those incredible green eyes of his, one which she couldn't quite decipher.

"Want me to remind you?"

She smiled, understanding exactly what he meant, and followed him back to his room.

.:{I}:.

The next morning was just another dreary, overcast Wednesday. Hinata, Sakura and Tenten met up in a wayside coffee shop, breathing in the cheap caffeine like some sort of drug and talking like they weren't in debt. They laughed, carefree, as Tenten haltingly told them it was Hinata's cousin she'd slept with the previous night. The other two knew already about Tenten's long-time crush on the stoic Hyuuga Neji, and they had laughed and cried with her over every small victory and every horrid loss, like when he got his first serious girlfriend and proclaimed (silently) undying love for the girl who had cheated on him. They had found that alcohol boosted Tenten's confidence to the point of someone with nothing to lose and everything to gain, and only wished that they'd gotten the alcohol into her sooner.

Sakura slyly told them (in great detail) about the male she'd gone home with. His name was Sasuke, she said, and she had a date with him that Friday.

"So you fell asleep at his place too?"

Sakura shook her head and took another swig of her coffee. "We didn't fall asleep, if you get what I mean." She winked and laughed openly. "When it got to midday we just figured we should probably meet up some other time. I had work and we both needed to sleep."

The girls laughed like they hadn't in a long time, before the other two pried into Hinata's night.

"I can't actually remember it," Hinata admitted. "Accidently fell asleep, actually. I woke up and nearly had a heart attack. I had no idea where I was." She giggled, thinking back. "I think I gave him a heart attack too. He was fast asleep and I screamed right in his ear." She raised her cardboard mug to her lips and smiled as her two best friends laughed at the mental image. "But he, uh – re-created the scene again after we'd woken up."

Sakura, being the ever blunt one of the group asked, "Well how was he? Good in the sack?"

"Great body," Hinata confirmed. "He has those hip line thingy's. I have no idea what the hell they are but holy crap they are sexy as hell. And -" she leant back in her chair, pointing at the two girls to emphasise her point "- he has back dimples. Fucking back dimples. Swear I nearly jumped him in the kitchen when I saw those."

"Good dick?"

"Oh yeah."

"Good sex?"

"Fuck yeah." Hinata winked and giggled like a happy child with her friends. "Hope I see him again. He has my number, so it's not like he can't call." She shrugged. "Last thing I need is my parents breathing down my neck again. All that damn tension that was there since – well, you know, it's just gone, which feels amazing." She smiled a huge Cheshire grin and downed the dregs of her coffee.

Her phone vibrated then in her back pocket and she laboriously pulled it out to look at the old screen. "Speak of the devil and it'll fuck you in the arse," she muttered, and flipped the device on. "Hey mum," Hinata greeted, her voice lathered thick with rotten honey. "Yeah, Suna's fine. Sakura and Tenten are fine. Uni's fine. Yes. Yes. Yes – no. No. Yeah, I know. Alright. Yeah, okay. Sorry. No. Yeah, I am. Yep, alright. Love you too, mum. Bye." She hung up and sighed. "I swear they're going to kill me one day."

"What was she asking about?" Tenten queried, leaning forward now that the horror had passed.

"Typical bullshit. How's Suna, how are you two, am I eating right, am I studying well, do I have a job yet, why haven't I called, am I being responsible, yadda yadda yadda, you get the gist. You'd think that for once she'd say 'hi' as well."

Sakura snorted in derisive amusement and downed the last of her coffee. "Your parents are real control freaks, you know that?"

"Tell me about it. I had to grow up with them."

The roseate shot her a sympathetic smile and stood up. "Coffee's on me, guys. I've gotta get back to work, so I'll see you back at the apartment later, alright?"

The other two supplied their goodbyes and they parted with nonchalant hugs and a silent promise to make life less desperate before they all went their separate ways.

A depressed blanket hung over the streets as Hinata walked to the café she was waitressing at. The streets were clammy and grey as dull sunlight filtered through a few crevices in the clouds. It seemed to reflect her mood, she acknowledged bitterly. Dull; bland. A few points of light to make the overall outlook appear better, but generally quite empty. It was very ironic.

Her phone vibrated again, and she agitatedly pulled it out of her pocket, not even checking the ID.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Hey to you too," the baritone responded, and Hinata flushed with humiliated realisation.

"Hey Gaara," she squeaked, her fire automatically quelled at the sound of his turn-on voice.

"Who did you think it was?"

She sighed and continued walking, annoyed that the initial mortified flush hadn't yet faded. "I was hoping it was my mum or dad. But, y'know, beggars can't be choosers and all that jazz."

"Why your parents?"

She crinkled her cloud-bleached brow. Gaara seemed to be quite the quick talker when sober, and she wasn't sure whether it was a turn-on or not. "Maybe they'd be so offended that they would stop calling me."

"Over protective?"

"Overly petulant, more like. If they don't control my life then it's the equivalent of the apocalypse." She couldn't fathom why it was so easy to talk to a stranger she'd fucked a few times. Why she was able to open up like a flower in bloom to him when the rest of the world was intent upon making her wither, like an old ghost unable to walk away from white-washed cable and t.v. dinners. She very nearly smiled, but settled instead for a slight upturn at the side of her mouth.

"Anyway, I think your opening statement was wrong. Shouldn't it be, 'Who would you like to fuck?'?"

"I'd ask that, but I already know the answer."

"Aren't you the smart one."

She grinned in amusement at his blunt sarcasm. "I've got work now."

"I'll pay you double."

"I'm not a prostitute, Gaara."

"So?"

"No."

Contemplative silence reverberated on the other end for a moment, before he posed another option. "Where do you work?"

"Sand's Shadow café."

"See you there."

The dial tone beeped in the typical bland Morse code as the other line went dead, and Hinata slowly flipped the phone shut with a small, excited sigh. Who knew? Maybe she'd get lucky again. Gaara was great in bed, so she could hardly complain.

The café sizzled with overwhelming heat, and Hinata groaned, realising that the air con had broken again. She very nearly glared at the below-average IQ waitress who smiled cheerily at her, sweat sticking her bangs to her head like a tongue to a frozen pole.

"Why don't you open up some windows, Emi?"

"I didn't even think of that, Hinata!" Emi exclaimed, and rushed forward to help her co-worker. She was like a mentally challenged dog, Hinata mused. Sweet and likable in her own way, with her eagerness to please and do well, but put a biscuit under a cup and she'd stare at you in morose confusion until pity overwhelmed annoyance and you just gave her the damn biscuit. Emi was pretty enough, with wide naïve brown eyes and mousey brown hair tied in two plaits, framing an oval face and small pink lips, but a vacant, dreamy demeanour permeated the girl's presence, and though Hinata was usually quite calm, she rarely had the patience to be in her company for more than a few hours. At least she was nice.

Hinata stared around the deserted café and posed the sarcastic question of, "Busy?"

"Nothing I can't handle," Emi declared and bounced back to the cash register, beaming a toothy grin at the pearl-eyed girl. Her excessive happiness almost gave Hinata a headache, but she forced a pained smile to her lips in return.

"That's good."

Scarcely fifteen minutes later, a familiar scarlet-haired man trudged through the doors, briefly filling the room with outside gloominess before the cheap frame closed shut. His aqua eyes immediately sought the girl he'd arrived for, and upon seeing her familiar deep indigo locks, he shot her a smirk of acknowledgment before taking a seat in one of the cheap, squeaky metal chairs and resting his elbows upon the dusty circle table.

He was immediately assailed by a young, irritatingly happy brunette girl who whipped out a notebook and a pen with an innocent smile.

"Can I take your order?" she asked, making a humorous attempt at sounding business like.

Gaara blanched and leaned back; he was shocked that anyone could possibly hold so much happiness in such a bland environment.

"Uh, iced tea, thanks," he articulated slowly, both still in a shocked stupor and feeling the initial stirrings of amusement colouring his tone.

She nodded with another blinding grin and skipped away to the checkout where she punched in his order and snatched a bottle from the fridge. The girl then flitted back to Gaara's side and delicately placed the bottle in front of him, like she was handling a new-born babe. It took all his self-restraint to not chuckle at the oddity presented.

"Thanks," he said, posing the word almost as a question and unscrewed the lid before taking a swig of the sweet liquid.

He listened as her light footsteps flounced back to her post, then turned to look at Hinata. Said girl was scowling, evidently annoyed at her co-worker, and giving her a wide berth as much as she seemed able to do so. He watched as she made her way over to him and sat down on the opposite cheap chair and cradled her brow in her palm.

"She's a lovely girl, don't get me wrong, but she annoys the piss out of me," Hinata began softly as way of greeting.

"No shit," Gaara bit back with wry amusement, eyeing the slightly dishevelled girl amusedly. "When does your shift end?"

"Not until four."

Gaara groaned in genuine aggravation. "I've got to wait until four?"

"I can't fuck around on the job."

"What about your break?"

"Just got back from it."

"Shit."

She shot him an apologetic ghost of a smile. "Sorry." Hinata let out a melancholy sigh and cradled her chin on her hand. "Why are you here, anyway?"

He shrugged. "I was wondering if we could make an arrangement."

She gave him a confused look, silently asking him to explain his cryptic sentence.

"I haven't had a fuck like that in a while. Wanna be fuck buddies?"

.:{I}:.

She felt like her washed-out self had found a bit of colour in the otherwise black and white monotony that was her life as she stressed over bills and rent and studies. Tenten had started a tentative relationship with Neji and Sakura's relationship with Sasuke was just as muddled and sex-orientated as it had started out as. Both Hinata and Tenten had asked their pink-haired friend what was happening, but Sakura's answers were always vague and long winded. From what they'd gathered, they had a lot of sex, occasionally he'd take her out to coffee, but otherwise it was just sex, which seemed to suit the both of them just fine. Tenten often joked that they both needed rehab, such was their addiction (though neither of the girls would verbally express their envy).

Along with Sakura, Hinata wasn't quite sure how to define her not-quite relationship imitation. Being with Gaara was easy. There was no confusion or thinking or right or wrong. He was like breathing: unconscious; natural. Time between sex wasn't spent getting horny. It wasn't spent regaining energy to fuck with later, or in the shower to wash away sin. Silence was filled with giggles, popping frozen grapes like pills and watching some random soap opera like some melodramatic, less screwed-up version of themselves. Words slipped past their lips like water from a stream, and soon Hinata found herself talking to him like she'd known him her whole life, instead of for a few fun-filled weeks. And soon, he knew the secrets of her heart instead of just the secrets of her body and her moans and her pleas. He knew her, not just the person she wanted to be; the person her parents expected her to be; the person society saw her to be. There was no pretence; no pretending. She found that when he wasn't there, she missed him.

Hinata hadn't felt missing since… well…

And it scared her.

.:{I}:.

Six weeks into their not-quite relationship, they had their first fight. Looking back, Hinata couldn't even remember what it was about. It seemed that the argument was more important than the topic, and everything was lost beneath layers of sound and noise and fear and frustration. She left his apartment with a screamed promise to never see him again, then re-acquainted her pillow with her tears. She could feel broken dreams and shattered promises slip past her eye lashes with the salty water, letting ghosts and memories soak into the pillow case as she tried so hard to let go.

But that's just it. Letting go was so hard, and she didn't know if she had the strength.

Gaara was forget and regret and safety and peace and safe.

But she didn't think her heart was ready for something like forget.

Pain was easy. She didn't have to decipher emotions like braille when her heart was breaking with remembered moments. Trust was hard. Trust was fragile like hope and safe. Pain was easy.

Hinata haltingly called his number a few days later when she'd worked up the strength, and apologised in broken tones, asking (begging) for one last chance.

"Do I have a choice?"

She smiled bitterly and felt tears drip past her mouth like misery. "There's always a choice."

She could feel the smirk through the phone. "Not this time."

A few days later it was back to the same old routine, but this time a fragility wavered in the air that hadn't been there before. Something had changed, though neither quite knew what. Sex became desperate, and need replaced want. Instead of giggles and grapes, there were caresses and brushes of lips against brows. She couldn't count the times that she became lost in his oceanic eyes, but it didn't feel healthy.

It felt like replacement.

Hinata felt like screaming.

.:{I}:.

"Gaara, I need to talk to you."

He turned his head to look at her lazily, automatically giving her his attention.

"This doesn't feel right, does it?"

He turned to look at his clasped hands. "It feels like you're hiding something."

Ever the perceptive bastard. "I don't think I can let you in until I let him go."

"Then let him go."

She sighed, closing her pearl eyes and dredging up memories she'd spent countless sleepless nights fighting to repress. She told him about Naruto.

.:{I}:.

The streets were idle in the early weekday pre-dawn. An acidic haze crept through the streets, adding to the already ghostly look that haunted the town. Deep breaths lulled the two silhouettes into a calm oblivion as heartbeats synchronised and smiles pulled at weightless lips. Hinata rested her ear against his naked chest, and listened.

Like it? Yes? No? If anyone favourites, it'd mean the world to me if you'd also leave a review. I'm turning eighteen soon, so think of it as my birthday present :)

Much love, SapphireRivulet xoxox