sswm 492
His move belonged to the fool, for as his reaching, well-meaning fingers connected with the silkiness of a hollowed cheek, electricity seemed to leap between them, causing her to flinch away from his attempt to show her affection. It had been a poor move and he immediately put all blame upon his shoulders. Fingers wished to withdraw immediately as he sought to reel back time, but his bird’s red gloved hand leaped to imprison his golden laced wrist with urgent fingers. The sudden movement, even if it was from her friendly form, caused short-lived currents to leap through his pelt. He, as she, overacted, but he too was quick to gather his wits once he realized that reflex had gotten the better of him. His frozen fingers stayed, melting against the loveliness of her blush streaked cheek. If his eyes had been alarmed for a brief moment, there was no trace of it now. The calm had returned, and he hoped she had it in her to forgive him. Her gesture spoke words she could not, but he was left uncertain.
Had he not been so cold-blooded, her attempt to speak would have crushed him. Scarlet orbs watched concentration gather in her facial expression. She willed it so, but the words simply wouldn’t come out. His gaze willed away as he saw her become more and more upset, but he forced it to remain still. It was wrong of her to force something that would not come. She tried—pressed her lips against his palm, whispering the words against his palm. But no whisper could carry its message without a voice. Itachi’s pale face did not reveal comprehension, though she tried so hard to make him understand. He didn’t need her message. Patience was something he could understand, and it was crucial that she did too. Whatever had happened to her had left her an open wound too grave for her to comprehend, and she had to allow time to help close that gaping hole of unspoken pain. The answer she had received so long ago had been a one word lie spoken by a young, fool of a boy, eager to satisfy his own carnal needs.
Her attempts were destined to fail. Slowly, though with some urgency, the blonde’s hand pulled away from her chanting lips. He had to disappoint her. ”Stop,” he demanded, though the command was carried by a voice interlaced with kindness. She was only hurting herself, and he couldn’t allow that. His idle hand now rose, and in unison, both hands leaped to imprison a rose coloured hand. ”You don't need to try for me,” He didn’t need her voice to hear her song, but China didn’t realize this. Would she still feel the need to try so hard if she only knew the answer to her voiceless question?
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