Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. If I did, Sakura would be seme.

Sorry if this makes little sense. I'm in a weird mood, I guess.

They are close, but not so much as to touch each other if they wanted to. He looks in her eyes and sees sunlight, streaming through olive leaves to make patterns on the moss of the forest floor. He does not think she's beautiful. He does think, however, that if she had been a reflection in the laughing brook (1) he passed some time ago, he'd have dipped himself into her wet image. And not come back. He would have joined her, in a watery grave.

But she's real. So he doesn't want her. Because if he were to stay with the real her, he'd have to live. He doesn't want that, he doesn't want to be in this world. As long as she's there, though, he can't leave from wherever that is. He wishes she wasn't real. So that, in joining her, he could be merely imaginary, too.

She loves him. She supposes, that in the night, she might be scared of how well he blends in. But she knows him. And loves they way the moonlight enhances his skin. She likes it when he looks so ethereal, angelic. Because he can't be real. But then she touches him, puts her hand to his cheek, and ignores the way he flinches. His skin is smooth and he's real.

She smiles.

When she kisses him, he doesn't move. She's cradling the back of his head with her hand, dark hair brushing against her fingers. His mouth, though shut, against hers feels satisfying. It's softer than she had imagined. She thought everything about men was supposed to be rough, coarse. But to discover different…well, somehow, pleased her. Her other hand holds onto his shoulder, gripping there. After no reaction from him, she moves it to the underside of his jaw, softly pulling him forward. Until he replies.

He supposes that her kiss isn't entirely unpleasant. He thinks, maybe, that he just might just be able to stay here. In this world. Because she is indeed real, and he wants to be where she is. He can't quite have her and be dead, so he'll settle for the next best thing. He lets her know his answer by kissing her back.

When she parts from him a moment later, his eyes are watching her, smoky and like velvet. He seems at peace.

She doesn't pretend to be satisfied with their kiss, in the way that a starving man doesn't pretend to be satisfied with merely bread crumbs given to him to eat. But she's determined that it won't be their last, and stops for now.

"Stay with me?"

She rests their foreheads together, searching his eyes with hers earnestly. He closes his eyes and smiles.

And they begin.

That was entirely random, and somewhat purposeless. Well, I guess I just wanted to write a kiss. I wonder how it turned out.

If anyone is confused, this takes place during the night. The sunlight in the forest was just me trying to describe Sakura's eyes with a different word than emerald. Oh how I hate that word. As far as the time line, this takes place whenever.

(1) By a laughing brook, I meant a stream of water. Just to be clear.

And by reflection, I don't mean it's her reflection in the water, like she's standing next to him. It's supposed to be something like an image of her in the water, like some type of imaginary creature. This probably doesn't make any sense.

Review if you feel like it. I'm not going to pretend I review for many stories either...