Warfares

// 020 //

OBITO'S eyes followed her every move.

She was affronted. Visibly upset by the perilous words he had voiced in the safe confines of darkness to linger inside his bedroom. It rang hollow, now; his profession of love. Shook the already feeble affinity she felt for him, and altered it into something rancorous. With every passing second, her expression continued to twist. A pretty face wearing the look of disdain. 

No matter the offending expression, he just couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze from the soft quiver of her plump upper lip. The dainty Cupid's bow shook with vigour.

"You don't... Love me?", he asked finally, his voice uncharacteristically powerless. Obito felt like an idiot as soon as he had mouthed the question, but he needed to know the answer. Needed her to say it all on her own - like a big girl.

Silence ensued. And then;

"I don't.", she replied in a spiritless hush. Maximized the proximity between them, as if his touch seared her very skin.

Obito let her pick herself up from his lap, despite that he didn't approve of it. Allowed her to slip right through his fingers with such jarring haste, that he couldn't even draw in a shallow breath to fill his aching lungs fast enough. His frown deepened as the embrace they shared finally broke apart. Her supple body moved across the room. She dressed herself with almost panicked celerity, now. Left him feeling algid. Empty.

She pulled her own t-shirt over her head, instead of his own. Sank a knife right into his back with the action. 'Not yours.' - she said with it.

"Why?", he muttered, pulling up his sweatpants. 

In a single harsh yank, his t-shirt followed suit. Hidden underneath layers of clothes yet again, he cringed inwardly at the feelings which still laid exposed on the table for both of them to see. Like cards in an unfair game of poker - the misdeal proved to be his confession. Obito sighed. Rested his elbows onto his knees and bent forward. Waited - impatiently, but keeping himself in check for her sake. Studied her like the most keen scholar would, as she continued to dress herself.

"I just don't.", she answered lamely. Didn't offer him as much as a glance as she pulled her panties and the flimsy pyjama shorts up her legs. Awkward; the whole ordeal.

"Okay... But, there's gotta be a reason.", he said. Eerily tranquil; his entire demeanor. All faux, however. It was the calm before the storm - the build-up of emotions to dwell somewhere deep within his heart.

"Well, there isn't.", she sighed, as if this entire thing was such a bother to her. He repressed the flash of red to appear in front of his eyes at her answer. Inhaled the hazy air; the smell of sex - the intimacy they had shared together. Through the nose, and out through the mouth. Repeat. Calmly repeat.

"You're lying.", he slipped. Yearned for the truth. Or pretty lies, instead.

"Excuse me?", she paused, her head snapping in his direction, "Mind repeating that?" A threat concealed within a polite-enough question.