The Greenhouse [A Gaara Love Story]

Prologue

"Momoko?"

His words were soft, just barely above a whisper as he called out to her from the doorway. She didn't turn to him but she did pause in the middle of her slice, her knife coming to a halt just before cutting through the last of the vegetables on the wooden board before her. Gaara watched the tension in her shoulders, the way they trembled ever so slightly, and the frown that had pulled at his lips melted to something more bitter than sweet.

He walked into the kitchen and as he did so a small tendril of sand flitted across the room and to the small radio that sat in the corner. It fiddled with the knobs for just a moment before a light and pretty music filled the kitchen, and at the sound of it Momoko let out a small sniffle. Gaara took the knife from her hand, and she allowed him to do so.

"Come on," He gently beckoned her as her eyes grew a little glassy, and though she looked as though she may reject him, Momoko let him pull her to the middle of the kitchen and take her into his arms.

She laid her head against his chest and let him sway them along to the music that filled the air, the tears in her eyes finally falling as she listened to the calming beating of his heart. Together they danced the same dance they had for so many years, both in moments of joy and moments of sadness, like this. What had started out as a romantic gesture encouraged by their therapist had become a form of therapy in and of itself, a moment in time in which there was nothing but the pretty music and their soft swaying. Things just felt easier, better, if only for one song.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly over the music, his eyes closed as he rested his head on top of hers.

"I will be, it's just..." Momoko's words died out and she scolded herself for the tears that had begun to soak his shirt, "I know it's been so long, and I know it's what your council wants, but I...I don't think I can."

Gaara would not deny his disappointment, but he would never admit it to her. He had talked about it with his personal therapist before, had gotten an earful about the subject from his council for the past few years, and had hoped somewhere deep in his heart that she would come around to the idea. It had once been her dream to have children and though they had suffered great losses in the past, a small part of Gaara had thought that maybe she would see adoption as a way of still getting what she always wanted. Unfortunately, he had been proven wrong earlier that evening when their therapist had brought up the idea. It made Momoko instantly tense, a look he had grown all too familiar with instantly flashing through her eyes and it had taken next to a miracle to calm her down again. The negativity lingered even as they came home, her silence heavier than usual and the pale blue of her gaze more distant.

"It's alright," He reassured her but the heaviness in his words said otherwise.

"I'm sorry," She breathed softly against him and he gave the hand in his own a gentle squeeze.

"You don't have to apologize." Gaara replied in all sincerity, pressing a soft kiss to her hair, "I only need you, Momoko."

She knew he was telling the truth, as he had said this so many times before. All he needed in life to be happy was her and that feeling was mutual. They had found comfort in each other's company and learned to grow content with a quiet house and busy life. Gaara and Momoko filled their time with work, training, and each other, and soon became happy with the little life they had built from ashes over the past ten years.

But sometimes there were those moments. Moments that no amount of kisses or sweet words could remedy, holes that gaped just a little too wide in their hearts and reminded them that something was missing despite how far they had come. Some nights they would simply lay in each other's arms, awake and silent, and only then did they let themselves feel the void that could not be filled. They never spoke about what was missing, never discussed that emptiness, but they knew each other well enough to know that they both felt it. She felt it when she saw children playing in the street and he felt it too when Temari sent letters about her son and happy family.

The moment would end and their lives would go on but neither of them could ever really shake that feeling of wanting something more than just each other. It was a seed that had been planted in their youth, when they watched clouds on roofs and kissed beneath streetlights. Though they were no longer the young adults they had been then and they had filled their life with as many distractions as they could, Momoko and Gaara would never be able to completely be rid of the feeling that this just wasn't enough.

For the sake of each other and the pretty music in the air, they said nothing more.