Speak in a roudabout way

Chapter 5: A time of being hard, waiting and overthinking

The ear plugs were good. Really good. Probably the best sleep you ever had, long and undisturbed, even by the cats which had started their usual howling and mewling punctual with dawn. But they couldn't blend out the persistent knocking at your window or the silent, yet unmistakable callings of your name ringing through the glass.

"(Y/N). (Y/N), wake up. Please."

For a moment, your mind didn't register what was going on. The tone was so familiar and calming, you just wanted to slip back into sleep and cuddle into a larger body beside yours. But then you felt the ear plugs shifting slightly as you rolled around, what caused your memories to rise like the tide.

Instantly you jumped out of bed and swiveled to the window, your eyes hungrily searching for the slouched figure which waited at your windowsill. And you nearly whimpered out as you really spotted him.

Kakashi sat perched up on the outside, one hand already raised for another knock, the other slightly stretched out to keep his balance. He was in his usual clothes, but they looked like he stripped them over his head in a wild hurry. One glove was missing, the bandages around his ankles were askew, one of his sleeves was rolled up and the other not, the edges of his shirt dangled loosely in the wind and revealed sometimes slivers of his pale skin, all the while his forehead protector and mask were constantly on the edge of slipping down. Also, his hair was standing upwards in crazy tufts; even crazier tufts than usual. And wasn't that a leaf you spotted in the grey strands? Did he sleep in a tree?

When the man saw that you were awake and up, he renewed his endeavors to catch your attention, in his black eye shining a new light you had never seen before.

"Let me in. Please, I beg you, (Y/N). Please, I want to talk." he said, his dark voice easily crawling through the glass. His long, slender fingers tapped once against the glass, twice, only to fall in the familiar rhythm you knew by now so well.

Even though you were happy to see him finally in his human body again, even though you were happy Kakashi was back, just because he was willing to talk now with you didn't mean you would immediately jump into his arms again. No, Kakashi deserved to suffer a little bit, to simmer in his own juices so to speak, before you would be grateful enough for this poor idiot to take him back.

"You want to talk?" Unimpressed you allowed one of your eyebrows to slip higher than the other. "Now? When I just woke up?"

"(Y/N), please." He flattened his hand until the whole naked palm pressed against the glass, sheer despair and raw begging in his voice. "I understand you completely. You're right, I should've changed back the moment I was able to and I apologize for that, but I had my reasons for doing so a-and if you want, I c-can explain th-them to you-!"

This time both of your eyebrows wandered into new heights. Kakashi hadn't stuttered and blushed in months since you two had started dating. Only occasionally, when one of your loving words or gestures surprised him, a certain soft blush would creep up from underneath his mask and paint the rest of his face, but now the famous and usually stoic copy ninja went full out with his blush. Red, hot blood instantly colored the visible part of his face, from his upper cheeks to the forehead and even the ears went bright red.

A blushing and stuttering mess. Your blushing and stuttering mess.

I will listen, nothing else.

"Fine." With a sigh you stepped to the window and opened it, allowing the man to jump into your flat. A silent ruffle of his clothes was everything telling of his entrance and when Kakashi straightened fully in front of your feet, his bones popped in the silence.

You still wore the elegant dress and the high heels. Beside Kakashi's uniform, you felt strangely naked and defenseless. Automatically your hands flew to your lower stomach, searching for comfort in a by now familiar gesture and his eyes followed, widening a fraction as he realized what exactly you were doing. Like flies glued to a light he kept staring at your stomach, in his eyes such a bright longing burning that your heart grew warm.