Serrated Needles - Chapter 5

One important thing to know about Deidara - he was a complete pervert. All night, he made advances on her, stealing cheek-kisses and finding ways to groupe her subtly. He kept apologizing whenever it happened, but sh eknew he wasn't actually sorry. She had even threatened to tell Sasori, but they both had know she wouldn't. And she hadn't.

Something about the blonde terrorist attracted her, though. Not a physical attraction - more like an emotional one. For a reason she couldn't understand, Temari felt a deep connection with Deidara, a deep...friendship that was quickly forming. She couldn't find words to explain it, but for some reason, Temari felt she could trust the blonde.

And so she proceded to test him. "What do you think of Sasori-sama, Deidara-kun?" She asked as she sat on his bed, knees folded. She held her top knee with both hands, as she always did.

"Honestly," the blonde male answered as he leaned up against his own worktable, "I think he is an artist, even though I don't like his form of it, un. I think...he's an example of fine art." He looked away, as if ashamed.

"But didn't you say art was explosions?"

Deidara shrugged. "It is. But for some reason, I think Sasori-danna is art, too. Committing himself to his art like that...Something only a true artist would do, un." He looked back to her, waiting. When nothing was said, he asked, "How do you feel about him? What do you think, un?"

"I..." Temari lost her vocabulary as she thought about it, looking to her knees. "I don't know what I think," she admitted, looking up to the bale, expecting criticizim. "I'm not an artist like you."

Deidara chuckled. "You don't have to be an artist to have an opinion on art, un. Only idiots don't understand art."

"I understand your opinions and beliefs," Temari murmured, looking away from him as a blush crept over her cheeks, "but I've never thought about it much myself. Art just doesn't...concern me." Suddenly she was feeling very self-conscious and idiotic.

"Hmm," the ex-Iwa nin murmured as he held his hand to his mouth very much like an artist. "Everyone has an artistic side, un. You just haven't let it out yet."

"Why should I bother trying?" She countered, feeling the need to be defensive.

"You want his approval, right?" Deidara asked, removing his hand from his face and turning to her a little more, "I thought you liked him, un."

Temari's cheeks got really hot, and she looked away, all the confidence she had leaving her in one mad rush. "I... I don't...I don't know how I feel about Sasori-sama."

Gently, Deidara held her chin in his hand and held her face up so that he could see. "Kami, you're blushing redder than his hair, un."

Her reserve shattered, Temari protected herself with anger. Batting his hand away, she ordered him not to touch her.

"Yup, I definitely see it, un." He mused as he sat beside her on his bed.

"See what?" Temari snapped, annoyed that her - small - feelings for Sasori were so apparent to this man, this virtual stranger.

"You're falling for Sasori-sama, un. And fast. Mark my words: You'll crash and burn, un. It's only a matter of time before you're putty in his hands.

"Y-you're lying!" Temari shouted as she jumped to her feet. "I...I don't feel anything for him! Not now, not ever!"

Deidara laughed. "Okay, okay," he said as he held his hands up in defeat. "if you say so, un. But I'll bet you five ryo you'll dream about him tonight, if he leaves your thoughts enough for you to fall asleep."

Temari took the pillow from his bed and threw it at him.

He laughed again, holding the pillow over his stomach. "You know, you looked really scared back there when you saw Sasori throw up and stuff, un. I wonder if he saw that as easily as I did."

Tears of confusion welled as emotions whirled around inside her, clashing with her usual level-headedness and logic. Not wanting Deidara to see her like that, Temari collapsed onto his bed, looking to her left hand as it balled into a fist.

"You really don't know, do you, un?" Deidara whispered softly as he brushed some of the hair away from her face. More tears fell, and she closed her eyes tightly, burying her face in the blanket. "C'mon, let's sleep this away."

Weakly, Temari crawled onto the bed fully, in a sort of fetal position. "I-I thought maybe something was really wrong with him," she murmured, replying to Deidara's previous comment about Sasori's sick state.

"Something was," Deidara said gently as he laid in the fetal position as well. "And I'm sure you touched him when you tried to help, un. Now go to sleep, Temari-chan."

Nodding, Temari closed her eyes and waited for sleep to arrive.

And waited.

And waited.

She wanted sleep to come, but - as Deidara predicted - Sasori's image kept her awake. She didn't want him to, but images of his sick frame haunted her, clouding her conscious with a reason to stay awake. Temari tossed and turned, trying to make herself comfortable, but sleep was too far away for her to catch. Worry for Sasori clouded her mind, and she found it to be keeping her awake.

Just then, Sasori entered Deidara's room from their connective door. Heart racing, Temari snapped her eyes shut, feigning sleep. What could he possibly want? Temari found herself thinking.

She felt Sasori stand above the two of them, just standing. For a long while, there was no movement. Temari's heart raced with anxiety. What are you waiting for, Sasori-sama?

After another tense moment, Sasori gently ran a finger along her cheek. Very confusing shivers ran down Temari's spine, and she had to fight to remain completely still.

"Temari-chan," Sasori's soft voice whispered in her ear, his breath cascading down her neck, "I'm so sorry you have to keep seeing things like that. I promise, on my deathbed, that I am never such an angry person. Kami knows all I want is to be with you, and yet I feel a rift between us. Tsk,"-he brushed a strand of hair away from her face--"I'm horrible, aren't I? I let my control slip, and I hurt my own parner in the process. I'm so selfish." He bent down on his knees and buried his head in the blankets as he twirled a lock of Temari's hair around his fingers.

Temari's heart raced as a pang of...something washed over her. Sasori wanted to get closer to her? The very thought made her blush. Never before had someone toyed with her hair so affectionately, made her feel or blush the way she did now. What exactly was this feeling? Temari desperately wished she had someone to tell her.

Mark my words: before you know it, you'll be putty in his hands, Deidara's voice entered her thoughts then.

That was when she realized that that was what she wanted.

Silently, Temari reached her hand out and gently brushed away Sasori's messy red hair, causing him to look up at her. "I...don't think...we're growing any further apart," she murmured softly, managing the smallest of smiles.

Sasori's mercury eyes were full of thanks as he exhaled deeply and managed a soft smile in return. "I'm horrible, though. Look what I let my anger do." He looked over to Deidara's sleeping form, resentment on his face, and sighed.

"He'll be alright," Temari murmured as she cupped his face in her hand. She liked the peculiar feel of his skin - it was soft and warm under her hand, but had a sort of hardness underneath that which reminded her of wood. "he's not mad at all," she promised.

"What is it with me and blondes lately?" he asked, looking back to her, a more genuine smile on his face.

Their eyes met, and Temari felt a tension between them. Not a bad sort of tension, but one that made her heart leap into her throat. Was that feeling - the one that hindered her breathing - something Sasori's presence has always done to her? She couldn't be sure, but she knew she liked the feeling. Temari closed her eyes, not wanting Sasori to see the uncertanty - the confusion - in her eyes.

"Temari-chan," the Akasuna called softly, causing her eyes to open, "would you like to...join me in my room?" He winced, as if thinking she would not approve of his choice of words.

Temari chuckled softly and nodded.

"Can I...carry you? You seem too tired to move..."

She nodded her approval and relinquished his cheek. He stood and, a second later, she felt Sasori's artistic hands picking her up gently, bridal-style. Temari clung to him carefully, gripping his chest as he brought her through the door connecting both rooms.

Sasori kicked the door closed behind him and gently laid Temari down on his bed. He stood and turned his back to her, moving off to his desk. Temari whined in dissatisfaction and called his name.

"Hn?" Sasori asked, looking over his shoulder at her.

"The point of sharing is to let the other person use the object with you," she murmured as she took in Sasori's scent. "Why bother letting me sleep in your bed if you're not going to enjoy it with me?"

A nervous tension filled the air then, and Temari suspected Sasori to be just as clueless as she. "You mean you want me to...share my bed with you?" He winced again.

"Yes," Temari answered instantly, "C'mon. I know you're just as tired as me."

Sasori let his exhaustion overtake him, then, as he approached. He fluidly climbed over and laid down, so that his back was to the wall. Gingerly, Temari moved closer to him, enjoying his warmth. Her eyes fluttered shut as sleep finally embraced her.

But it wasn't sleep embracing her - it was Sasori.