Forced Tears
Rating: R
Pairings SasuNaru
…Introspective. What more can I say? Rather, I can say short also…Heh.
Disclaimer: If the prefix dis- means not; the word claim means ownership, and I am posting a disclaimer to a Naruto fan fiction...What can we deduce?
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Pitter-patter …
Splunk…
The drops litter across my face. Caress the scars. Trace over my lilting smile.
Wreak havoc upon polyester.
Why do I love the rain so?
Why… I, most honestly have not a clue… Most think it is because the rain symbolizes my tears falling from heaven. That I cannot cry…I bottle the angst inside, like the demon clawing for release. Tell me, why does laughter spring on my lips every time it rains?
Iruka-sensei used to hate the rain. Said it brought out the worst in me. And it did. Energy from the drops fused with my own. Forming some twisted chakra of sorts.
Others pass by and see my vulpine grin.
Are you like that?
Deep in the night, after the poundings of our heart and body merge, I stay awake. Listening to the rain, the wind, the peace at times. Next to me lies your body; stone dead in sleep, while demons of your own hound you. At times, your face twists, contracts in an unnamed agony. I remember one silvery night, meant for contemplation, a tear slipped through. It seeped from a crack, so delicate and precious. How I envied your ability to silently let it all bleed away. No longer able to cry myself…No longer able to feel sorrow.
From early age they hated me to cry. Iruka-sensei would wipe away my tears; chastise me gently for the crime at hand. I can still hear his voice soft yet opulent.
"Dry your tears, little one. Everything shall turn out all right. Smile and be happy"
More of a hinder than a help. Those tears metamorphosed to a polar opposite. A spring of bubbling laughter. And deep inside tragedy permeated my soul, core, being. Now I have not that much anymore.
If you concentrate, you can connect pleasure and pain. It's a simple process. Once one overcomes the initial shock and practice enough, any pain shall turn to pleasure. Why should it not be with jubilation and sorrow?
For me, there is no more bottled anger, malice, tangy hatred. There are no tears, no misery. It is a simple straightway toward happiness. Being scolded makes me happy. Being yelled at makes me happy. Being hurt, abused, used, makes me happy. How perverse I have become…I'm happy this way. This is the way you will like- no -…love me. Why else would others want me to smile? The times I have cried in the past were hurriedly dampened.
As sordid as this may sound, I enjoy the feel of your seed coating my thighs. Leaking from my hidden entrance. Tickling the prude ring of muscle. I enjoy seeking out the drops that escaped. I lift my finger and swipe the spot clean. A pink tongue darts out to take your essence.
So good.
So raw.
Yours. Yours to care for. Yours to tend to. Yours to break down the wall of laughter and bring forth the tears.
Make me cry.
You will someday, will you not? Or rather, you won't.
Not many see past the true smiles. I can't.
Sharingan eyes or without, how are you to fix what is not broken?
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...My hopeless attempt at angst.
Reviews shall be printed out and tucked safely with my panty drawer.
Love, Moonlight Flower?
((A review caused me to look back at this and attempt to find the tech errors… And yes, my reviews truly are lovingly kept safe within a drawer… I thank you all for putting up with my drivel. And thanks be to Press for spying my mistakes. With love, Mf.))