Escuro: My first NejiHinata drabble...I don't write much for this fandom (or at all for this pairing) but I'm quite content with how this ended up. I do hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Neji or Hinata or anything Naruto-related so please don't pester me. I only own this fic.
timorous adj. - 1) of a timid disposition : fearful 2) expressing or suggesting timidity
The first time she had sat with him had been right after his return from the retrieval mission. The afternoon air was cool that day and he had been resting his wound, attempting to quell his urge to train by watching the birds gather in groups among the gardens.
He remembered catching the light, almost silent, shuffle of her bare feet as she approached that day, so soft he nearly missed the sound. He had acknowledged her presence with a slight tilt of his head, not once turning to see her, having preferred his view of the garden over her thin frame.
She had been so quiet when she kneeled behind him...not at all unlike her…But when thin fingers brushed over the blood stained wrappings that hid his wound, his body turned, hand wrapping around her thin wrist as she attempted to back away. She had flinched but did not voice her discomfort at his tight grip. He remembered her swift and continuous apologies, not once pausing or daring to look him in the eye. He had ignored her completely, his mind focused on the feeling of her skin.
He had released her quickly, snapping out of whatever spell had captured his thoughts. His apology had been short and whispered but nevertheless heard. He remembered how her eyes, wide, colorless pearls, widened and shimmered. They had sat in silence a moment longer, neither one knowing what to do or say. She, to his surprise, was the one to break the silence, nimble hands brushing over the wound once more.
'May I…?' She had moved slightly, revealing the fresh bandages she had carried with her. He had made a soft sound on nonchalance, moving to allow her more access to his wrappings.
From that day on, she would come, with quiet steps and calm smiles, and dress his wounds. With each afternoon that passed her hands lost their fear, their timidity…and gained a soft sense of familiarity and an underlying bout of curiosity. Long after the battle scars healed, she continued to come, offering a smile and a quiet companionship that he found he enjoyed.
Today she comes once more, dark hair falling on her shoulders and framing the pale features that he had once called 'cute' (he had been a child then and children speak only what they see to be true). With a nervous smile she moves forward, steps silent and hands positioned at her sides.
Quiet words pass through pink lips. 'May I…?'
As her lips touch his own, she is timid once more.
Escuro: Do review. I'd like to know how I did. -smile-