| [May. 31st, 2009|07:55 pm] |
At first his voice was a bass patter of sound without meaning, rumbling in his chest, humming through her bones. She counted a dozen breaths before she could piece words together, and then it didn't make any sense anyway. Where had beer and beads come in?
But his hand was warm and soothing on her back, and she could hear the smile lightening his voice. His skin had finally begun to lose its icy chill. Which was probably because she was crying on him, gods...
The ice-shield was almost impossible to recover once she'd broken it. She couldn't empty herself; her hand throbbed and her bruises ached and Asuma's hand petted calm into her trembling muscles while he rambled himself into silence. Even then, she could hear his heart beating against her cheek, his breath soughing softly as his chest rose and fell. Almost without trying, she matched her breath to his.
"I offered you a feast," she murmured at last. "You said you'd rather have dancing. It's your fault if I break your toes."
Salt-slick skin tingled against her lips. She turned her head abruptly and rubbed the last tears away. "I'm sorry." Her voice shook; she forced herself into silence until she could speak clearly again. "I don't usually break down." Not since she left the make-shift morgue after identifying what the Kyuubi had left of her genin sensei's body; and then it had been the touch of Ibiki's arm around her shoulders that had destroyed her control and unleashed the tears. Ibiki had held her, then, while she cried, just as Takeo had held her a year before. It was getting to be a habit. She scrubbed at her eyes again, and then rubbed futilely at Asuma's chest.
"I don't suppose you want to take your turn now?" She hoped he'd hear the laugh; it was still a little too close to a sob. |
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