Disclaimer: Sweetheart, I don't need to own Naruto to write fanfiction.
Penname: LiveLoveLaugh
FanFiction Story: Dirty Gamble
Summary: (Prequel of Dirty Talk) Takes a big man to crack a woman. It takes a bigger man to make hundreds go crazy for him. But in this game, it takes one shinobi to realize his feelings. (ShinoXSaku)
You heard right. In this story, Shino gets the girl. Have a good read.
Prologue
His eyelashes lightly fluttered in a tired motion, adjusting his sunglasses to the harsh light. For a moment there, he nearly forgot where he was until he saw himself surrounded by light pink walls and white curtains. A shadow of a figure moved slowly over his weak body. He glanced down when he noticed a pair of lovely hands lift up from nowhere, leaving something heavy on his lap. When the figure moved away, a gentle light poured over his face and his gray blankets.
His lunch was set out neatly on his plastic tray so he took it as a notion to eat. He grimaced behind his immobile façade when he tasted the watery brown concoction of chicken noodle soup. Hospital food was awful. When he stopped eating, she persisted he finished everything on his plate no matter how disgusting it tasted. She'd even picked up his spoon and shoved it between his tight lips. Again the molten, salty taste returned to his tongue.
But he obliged, ignoring the repulsed buzz of his insects.
Right, like he wanted a beating.
The soft scratches alerted the bedridden patient next to her. The black pencil head kept creating lazy circles, which later turned into dreamy swirls and sharp zigzags across the white paper. In frustration, she tore the page off her notebook and started again. The pencil returned into a subtle sketching, flicking lines across the smooth surface. Through the dark lens, he could vaguely make out the smudges developed under her finger pads as he glanced at her trying to sketch out the potted daffodil on the nightstand.
Her pink tongue poked out and curled at the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were narrowed in disappointment. He could clearly hear the little irritated noises she made when she unsuccessfully came up with what looked like a fuzzy gray flamingo after undergoing an electroshock instead of a delicate bright flower.
Instead of erupting into a furious dance, she sighed and laughed, "I'm not a good artist."
He didn't say anything. He just sat there, sitting upright on his thin bedding and hazily twirling his metal spoon in the dregs of the finished soup. The bits of old potato and thin shreds of chicken swam thickly. His lips were just parted enough that it didn't show any of his teeth. She sometimes if he had any since she never seen him smile or frown, or vaguely open his mouth any bigger to drink water or talk.
She had long ago noticed he didn't react much to anything so she left him in his place. But she made sure to get something out of him daily.
She often did this, coming into each of her patient's rooms to check up on them and sometimes, most of the time, talk to them so they wouldn't feel so alone or out of place. She treated the children to small treats and candies. The patients rather like someone more attractive than themselves to pay attention to them and make them feel more important, even if most of the nurse staff were old crones walking around in too-tight stilettos.
But the young medic had a difficult time with the lone shinobi, who was finishing up his bratwurst toast. Again his mouth only covered the bread crust enough that she wasn't able to see his white chompers, and if it weren't for crunching sounds he made (however small they were) she would've thought he was toothlessly sucking on the somewhat burnt edges.
He was a nut she couldn't crack. Even then, she had never had any trouble getting a few sentences out of the Kazekage whenever she visited Hidden Sand to check up on the ongoing status of the Sand medic-nin, but this, this was a different situation.
She placed down her notepad and pencil on the window ledge, and straightened out the ends of her white skirt. She watched him eat the rest of his toast, watching the food slowly disappear behind the thin, pale lips. She had soon realized she never had rapid attention to the movements of his mouth. But she did.
He looked so exposed without his hitae-ate or his layers of coats and hood, adorned only in his dark blue pajamas his family sent over weeks ago when he was hospitalized. From her eyes, he looked lankier and skinnier, and had a weak appetite. Up from the collar, all of his skin was exposed except for the places around his eyes hidden away from his spectacles.
Those eyes, she wondered, if she could just see those eyes…it looked so easy, in her position, to reach over and delicately lift up the frames from his face. When she suddenly noticed her fingers inched forth, she quickly clasped together and cradled them in her lap.
He never seemed to act uncomfortable to her protruding stares so she had the time of her life, just looking at all the graceful movements of his hands and his fingers. She noticed the way his sunglasses glint in the daylight, the way the sunshine reflected on the bushy mop of dark hair on his head, and the small glow of his pale skin. When he finished, he tilted his head slightly to her direction without a word.
He looked almost normal but not quite.
She smiled to herself. She could get used to it.
To Be Continued
I knew I had to continue Dirty Talk, even if it was just one chapter. So I had decided shortly that this would be a story, not a one-shot. I have no idea how long it will be, but I can guarantee it'll be much longer than two chapters. Hopefully.