Dark tousled hair curled up onto the dorm’s wood paneling, as the young man sat, waiting nervously for her to come home. A bouquet of wilted flowers clutched in one hand, the other futilely trying to straighten his crumpled white dress shirt, he’d only been outside the dorm door for a few hours.

A few more couldn’t hurt.

The boy slumped down into a sitting position, lightly smacking his head back against the wall.

Who am I kidding?

“What am I doing here?”

The good-looking, if slightly unkempt young man knew what he had been going to do.

For the past two weeks, he’d planned on telling her that night, telling her that he was in love with her and asking her, his best friend, to give him a chance. Patting the left pocket of his black suit pants, the boy felt the paper where he’d written down everything that he’d wanted to say.

Since we were in middle school, I…

After that time when you…

I could barely stand it…

Wanting to touch you…

Be with you…

Sitting in the audience that night, the young man had felt his chest swell with pride. Glancing at those around him, he knew that the world was finally getting to see the girl for what she really was.

Perfect.

Everything had been perfect.

Until, later, when he’d been trying to find her backstage, when he’d heard someone else calling out her name, when he’d turned around to see…

That blonde bastard.

Asking where she was like he had a right to know, wanting to find her, ruining everything.

His best friend had been in love with that blue-eyed idiot since elementary school, still was in love with him. And now, it seemed as though the blond liked her, too.

I just need to be happy with what I have.

Her friendship.

That’s enough.

The boys ribs began to ache.

If I push…If I ask that question…I couldn’t tell her the truth, only to watch her fall even deeper in love with that dumbass, being his girlfriend, going on dates, holding hands…

“Aghh!”

“I’m sorry, you haven’t been waiting long have you?”

And, there she was.

Quickly jumping up and brushing off the seat of his pants with a swipe, the young man tried to give her his usual feral grin, even though he was having trouble catching his breath.

She’s so beautiful. Too beautiful.

“Nah, I just stopped by, wanted to make sure you got these on your big night. Haha,” he said nervously holding out the roses with a laugh, “not that you need anymore I’m sure.”

“Oh, but these are lovely.”

“Yeah,” Just like you, “You did amazing tonight, by the way.”

Searching his face, the slender, young dancer gave him a sweet, soft smile, “That’s what everyone’s been saying…well, almost everyone, “ her grin faltering for a second, “But, now, hearing you say it…haha, I think I’m finally starting to believe it.”

“Almost everyone?”

“Well, a few of the other girls had some really great constructive criticism during our department meeting. I’ll just have to get better, I guess. They know what makes a good dancer better than I do,” the happy look of pride that had suffused her features was slowly fading behind a creased brow, a worried look.

He hated that look.

He’d do anything to get rid of it forever.

Or, even for just a moment…

Warm and rough, his large right hand, almost timidly, caressed the side of her face, fingers tracing down cheek, palm cupping jaw. Although surprised, the girl was unable to keep her body from reacting, thick eyelashes fluttered, while a pale pink mouth opened, inches from the boy’s own.

Stopbehappywithwhatyouhaveyou’llruineverythingdon’t!

“I love you.”

Coming back to her senses, the girl shook her head a little and replied kindly, “I love you, too.”

As a friend.

She’d given him a way out of the situation, a way to forget what he’d been about to do. Hand resting lightly on her hip, the other resting on his shoulder, cute little face turned up to smile at him. The part of the boy that loved her wanted to give her a nice, brotherly hug, and pretend that everything was fine and dandy. The part of him that desired her wanted to gamble it all.

Looking into her pale violet eyes, desire won.

In one natural movement, he pulled her body against his. Savoring the feel of her supple skin, memorizing its musky vanilla scent, trying to keep control, because he knew she had never asked for any of this.

Please, please…don’t make me leave you.

And, then, the poor boy felt slender fingers curling behind the nape of his neck, twining in the chocolate mane, causing goose bumps to rise and all loss of self-control. Pressing her back against the dorm’s wall, he kissed her, with passion and despair. Pulling the girl’s soft lower lip into his mouth, the boy’s body shuddered in desire and relief when he felt her kiss back.

Days passed.

Barely a millisecond had gone by.

His forehead pressed against hers. The kiss had ended, but the two didn’t move, still breathing into one another.

Face scrunching up in crazed sorrow, the boy whimpered into her open mouth. And, the girl jerked in surprise, when she felt tears trace the same path fingers had drawn moments ago.

Reaching around the girl’s slender frame, his arms pulled her closer, face burying into her shoulder, nose sliding against the sensitive area behind her ear. In something between a growl and a sob, Kiba whispered, “I’m so sorry, but this has to be goodbye.”

Then, he was gone.

Shocked, Hinata reached up one pale hand to touch the wet tracks her best friend had left behind.

Looking around, as if for some kind of answer, she spied the fallen roses, strewn across the ground. Stooping to gather them up, she paused a moment before unlocking her door, closing it behind her, and collapsing in tears against its hard, wooden surface.

Back in the hallway, dark red petals trailed like drops of blood, the forgotten pieces of a boy’s broken heart.

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Author’s Note: Let me start off this incredibly short Author’s Note with one sentence.

“Oh snap!”

Since we don’t have much time left, let’s get a reaction from tonight’s special guest star, Akatsuki member, Uchiha Itachi.

Good-looking, half-blind, and deadly, the aforementioned Uchiha looks narrowly at the author, and she prays to all the gods of all the different religions that she isn’t about to get completely fucked up.

Suddenly, he speaks with emotionless certainty, “I thought that this chapter was teh smex.”

Crickets.

Really?

“Yeah, have you ever thought about doing anything on adultfanfiction.net?"

Do you think that...

The camera pans away to leave the disturbing pair and their even more disturbing conversation.



Reviews are love! And, if you are new to "Painted Dreams", then go back and criticize/glomp the crap out of the old chapters. It will earn you some form of response and my everlasting devotion.