#ten-ten

I recognize the voice as Ten-Ten’s, my only female teammate. She is the only person I allow to touch my hair, other than myself. She is a small, but an undeniable force of nature when it comes to important decisions. She sometimes can be overbearing, but we all know she means well. But this Ten-Ten, I’m the only one who sees this side of her. The steady calm in the early morning, caressing my hair softly and tendering weaving a braid with my coffee colored hair. This is also my favorite side of her. So in response to her early question regarding my state of consciousness, I simply let a small groan slip out of my mouth.

She reaches out and slowly and softly scrapes her nails on my scalp, running her fingers through my hair undoing what little braid she had constructed. I roll over gently on the futon to look her in her chocolatey orbs she calls eyes. The white sheets and blanket are pooled around her armpits on her own futon, that she scooted closer to me to execute her plans for my hair. I could see the wrappings around her chest that wound up around her shoulders, leaving a sliver of collarbone out in the open. It’s almost like she did that, knowing that I’m already terribly physically attracted to her.

She smiles at me. A soft smile that melts what hardness I hold in my heart when I’m with her.

“Why did you stop?” I murmur hazily as I reach out and run my hands through her long medium brown wavy locks. It seems strange that Ten-Ten and I are so intimate at times like these. In the middle of a mission, early in the morning waiting for everyone else to wake up, but until then it’s like we’re in our own small shining bubble.

Ten-Ten’s POV:

He smiles at me, a rare one, the kind that lights up his silvery lavender eyes. I’ve always loved his eyes, they’re my favorite part of him. Physically, at least. They have always seemed like something out of a fairy-tale, too good to be real but to dangerous to be made-up. His pile of sheets has been discarded on the wooden floor next to his futon, exposing him in his shirtless state, only wearing a pair of dark blue pants. I can’t help but let my eyes wander over his muscled alabaster form. His wonderful, wonderful abs in full display as he turns to face me.

I can’t help but smile as I stare into his open eyes, the early morning light illuminating him. Turning him into some kind of angel, sent to me to taunt me for some sin I committed.

“Why did you stop?” he suddenly asks, and my thoughts snap back to the present as he slips a hand into my hair, running his large calloused hand through my curls.

“I think its my turn,” I reply coyly, smirking slightly as I roll on my side facing away from him. I feel his hands brush against my neck as he collects all of my hair in one hand. He pulls on it gently, and suddenly I feel him lean in close, warm breath on my neck. 

Then, I feel a soft gentle press against my shoulder blade. I gasp, and turn looking to see if what I felt was really his lips, and sure enough, it was. He gives me a small smile and sheepishly says,  “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. You look so good right now,”

I feel myself getting hot as he leans in again, and the only words I can find myself slurring out of my mouth, tumble from my lips in a heated mess,