Disclaimer: I do not own Shikamaru, Temari or the TV show: Naruto. If I did, I probably wouldn't be here. This is a somewhat romantic, soggy-ending type of story. No smut, just angst that turns to fluff. Sorry!

Shikamaru-x-Temari. Don't like 'em? Don't read. Simple as that.

:::On with the story!:::

I WOULD DIE…

Temari pulled off her silk stockings and slumped down onto her bed, cupping her face in her hands and crying. Shikamaru had stood her up again. She felt so foolish – nine out of ten dates he hadn't shown up, but she just kept forgiving him; he was her drug, but she felt so useless. So…unloved…

Temari heard her door click open, but did not look up. The mattress beside her depressed for a moment as the intruder sat down. She felt something cold on her lap, and the pressure beside her subsided as the guest got up, left; the door clicking closed behind them. Only then did Temari look at her lap. It was a phone, and Shikamaru's voice could be heard from the receiver; distant and faint, calling her name. She jammed the phone to her ear, opened her mouth to yell at him; condemn him, but the words never came. Instead she burst into a fresh bout of tears; the cool, salty water cascading down her cheeks; hot and red from running home. Two hours she had waited for him – two hours! Any sane person would have left, but Shikamaru was an… obsession. His voice sounded from deep within the phone, completely impassive: "I'm coming over." A click as he hung up. Temari; enraged and depressed, threw the phone at the door, where it shattered with a crack of splitting plastic. Then she went over to the corner of her room; where her fan stood, leaning against the wall: opened it, and brought it down on the phone, smashing it into tiny shards. Turning on her room; Temari unleashed a tirade of jutsus; screaming and crying in frustration. "WHY?"

A haze of minutes past, and Temari fell to the floor, her room a mess of debris, a hole of its former self. Temari tried to cry, but the tears just wouldn't come. A deep gash on her forehead bled openly, creating a sticky, hot trail of blood down the side of her face, mingling with her sandy-blond hair. Behind her, Temari heard the click of a door opening, closing, hands wrapping themselves around her; warm and strong, the unmistakable pointed shape of Shikamaru's face, which seemed to fit perfectly in the crook of her neck. His hot tears created shiny, wet trails down her chest.

"Why?" She asked, pulling herself roughly from Shikamaru's grasp and turning to face him. He looked down, up, rubbed his arm, spotted the gash on Temari's face.

"Every time we had a date, I managed to talk myself out of going." He ripped off his shirt-sleeve, pressed it against Temari's head.

"I've always thought I wasn't good enough for you…"

"But you are" Temari leant forward; kissed his cheek.

"I love you." She winced as her cut bleed dangerously, soaking through Shikamaru's sleeve and draining the colour from her face.

"I would die for you…"

Shikamaru kissed her, lifted her up, turned to the door and said in a barely audible whisper that made Temari's heart flutter:

"…and I would die without you…"

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it!