| [Jun. 2nd, 2009|10:50 pm] |
Startled, Asuma followed her gaze down to his leg. Patterned cloth had parted to expose a long strip of thigh and a swathe of white bandage; he poked the latter carefully, testing the injury with a small wince, and shrugged.
"Darlin', I'd rather have a hole in my thigh than a kunai through my head, which is what would have happened if you hadn't saved my life for the, what, third time? And seeing as you lugged my useless hide around half the freakin' countryside, I reckon you're exempt from apologies." He caught her hand, tugging it free of her teeth; bitten-white marks flushed pink as the blood rushed back. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. "If you're hungry enough to eat yourself, now is probably a good time to track down the nearest orange robe and see what they do for food around here."
His stomach clenched suddenly, echoing the sentiment. The last time either one of them had even thought about food was hours ago--probably the better part of two days, before they'd laid eyes on the redhead and gone swimming down the river. Unless you counted Natsumi's tea in the shelter of their knot of trees, but he was pretty sure she hadn't managed more than a sip before they'd been attacked.
Well, before he'd blown a chunk of the forest up.
The memory should have brought guilt, but all he found was a smile etching over his lips. They'd completed a mission, killed everyone who'd deserved it, survived, and he'd woken up to find himself healed, kissed, and within ten feet of every personal bit of precious he cared about. It was hard to think of a better day.
Smile widening, he tugged Natsumi's unbroken fingers to his mouth and kissed the back of her hand. "Cheer up, gorgeous. We just beat all the odds; that's got to be worth a smile." |
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