Distant Echoes

7 - Sunset

Sasuke Uchiha, went out early in the morning to do the shopping, going to where she was the only lady in the market who did not make judgments about him.

The black cloak swayed in the wind, while on the way back, he stealthily watched the market stalls.

His pace stopped when something caught his eye.
On a stall there were many women's trinkets on display, a blue crown with sparkling white stones seemed to him really beautiful. If it was a woman, she'd buy it for herself.
He turned his back on the stand, then thought about it again, and went back in front, buying what he liked.
At least that distracted woman would have taken off her hair in front of her face, even changing her hairstyle!
Open your lips slightly.
What the fuck was he thinking?
Bewildered by himself, he walked at first slow pace, then rushing, until he activated the renegade to teleport directly into the house.

You can be really nice when you want.
She lifted her eyelids to the voice of her that like a whip had appeared in her mind.
He didn't understand what happened to him.
He'd put those accessories in a drawer, closed it right after.
The routine with the work and the meetings with her proceeded as usual, but something worsened inside.
It was precisely for what he had just done and for those feelings that he felt lately, that the following days, in the logic that had always accompanied him in his life, he wanted to test himself.
Perhaps it was because of that spring season that it would soon present itself and that was already hovering in the air that felt that way, maybe every woman could have had that effect.
He had had her body close to him at other times, both when he had warmed her on his falcon, and when they had found themselves sleeping shoulder to shoulder in the woods, and when they had embraced each other in the dark after eight days they hadn't seen each other, but now it seemed to have taken a different turn.
It was a long time they shared the days, but Hinata was perhaps dangerous for her self-control.
He reflected on that thought. He had never considered any woman in that way, he had always been pursued, revered, all were attracted to him, but now the problem seemed to be about himself.
Now the mere touch or being touched by her caused him irreversible sensations.
Probably if he hadn't spent all that time thinking about his revenge or if he had a friend to give vent to what was happening to him, he would have been more relaxed.
He thought that there was Naruto, but they were not on the same wavelength intellectually and dumb as he was for sure he would come up with some idiocy. After all, he had been in love for years with that stupid Sakura who had always mistreated him, and that said a lot about what attracted him and his level.

He had to know if everything he felt could be qualified as a bodily response for any female creature.
She ad to know if her body would respond that way to any woman as visibly beautiful as she was.
Put his hand on her face, for the implicit compliment he had just paid her.
Of course, he always liked long hair, perhaps because it reminded him of his mother, but it couldn't be just for that, because in retrospect, many women with flowing hair had gone after him.
Her desire to give an answer was reinforced to every long-haired female figure she crossed on the street.
None had any effect on him, except a girl maybe a little older than him.
Turning his head, he was overcome with frustration, when he realized that the young black-haired woman looked a little like her.

Hinata Hyuuga that you may be damned, thought furiously Sasuke as he accelerated his gait and went into the woods, making momentum with the branches.
She had poisoned him, he was like a toxic plant.
Damn Hinata.

With these angry thoughts in his head, even though he knew he was exaggerating, he came home late at night and lay on the bed, his hands at his temples.
His own self-flagellation had even given him a headache, because all he had done was add to the already vivid hornet's nest in his brain.
There was nothing, nothing vaguely admissible in what hung over his head, nothing.