:Cloth.Fetish:Gaara/you One shot

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Gaara scowled uncharacteristically as he exited the thick wooden oak doors that led out of the meeting room he had just been in earlier. He was even more annoyed by how the elders still treated him like a monster, even though he had proven to be a reliable asset to the suna defenses. Only a meager amount of years had passed and yet people remained wary of his presence and his seemingly frigid gaze, though hope still shone in the darkest corners of his heart, yearning for a trace amount of acceptance.

“Mikomi…”

He frowned, creasing his non-existent brows. Throughout the years, his thoughts had never failed to stray to the subject of you, an enigma, though you appeared slightly less graceful.

>Flashback<

The sun was hot, endearingly hot that Gaara decided to spend some time in the shade of a tree. Crossing his arms, he stood calmly and enjoyed a few seconds of relaxation, though his face appeared emotionless. He had only just returned from a mission in a snowy village, not even bothering to even remember the name of the place, and he already felt like an overheated oven. It seemed normal because a lot of people were basking under the cool arms of nearby trees or merchant stands, making the scene seem unwanted and stuffy.

His thoughts headed in the direction off Naruto and his earlier pep-talk on friendship and love. There had only been one concept for Gaara that he had lived by all his life.

Live only for yourself…

Love only yourself…

But…Naruto’s way seemed less painful…

He was brought out of his thoughts by a slight tug on his sleeve. Apparently, someone was sharing his shade with him. Salt-ocean eyes met a deep honey-brown.

“Oi” you said cheerily, “I like your ninja outfit”

He remained silent. How was he supposed to answer to that?

You blandly ignored his disrespect and continued bluntly, “Red looks good on you. I never really saw red on a lot of people, but it matches with your sandy hair. Is the fabric silk? Or maybe…” You continued on, not noticing his surprised gaze.

You were complimenting him and…

“Can I try it on…”you piqued, before slapping your hands over your mouth. Your cheeks tinted a soft red before gazing in his general direction.

You weren’t afraid.

“Ah, I’m sorry” you squeaked nervously, “I didn’t mean to say that.”

His heart came to life.

>End flashback<

Halting in his steps and shaking off the memory, he gracefully made it to your workroom on the other side of the kazekage building. He never wanted to admit that he purposely granted you a workshop near him. Opening the wooden oak door, reminding him greatly of the meeting he had attended minutes ago, he entered your room.

Layers of cloths of different colors and sizes were strewn across the area, giving it a stuffy but cozy glow. A sewing machine was placed in haphazardly in the far left corner with a toppled stool beside it. A clear set of needles were placed on a centerpiece table along with an empty cup and a blueprint for the latest outfit you were making.

He ignored all of that, openly looking for your form hunched over a piece of cloth, working your fingers. Not finding you anywhere in your abode, his mood soured, though it didn’t show on his visage. Turning on his heels, he exited your home, beginning his search.

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“Gaara” Temari exclaimed as said boy happened to cross by her, “What are you doing? Are you in a hurry?”

He turned to look at the soft blonde and asked cryptically, “Mikomi…”

Temari remained silent for a second before smiling softly.” She told me not to tell you but, if you’re looking for her that desperately, she’s in your bedroom.”

He frowned in return before nodding his head at his sister in thanks and leaving in a flurry.

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He reached his room in seconds, and softly opened the familiar wooden oak doors he had grown accustomed to.

“Mikomi…”

What greeted him roused his senses.

You were strewn across his bed, wearing one of his spare Kazekage robes. The sun shown in, highlighting your less than stealthy form. Your soft curves gently complimented his robe, even though it obviously appeared too big on you. Your nervous honey brown eyes gazed into his probably shocked that you had been caught. “Umm, I just wanted to try your robes on” you stuttered, “They seemed so comfortable and you were at a meeting so…” You stopped at the dangerously addictive look in his eyes.

“Take it off” he snapped.

“But…” you mumbled, “I have nothing under this” Your cheeks tinted pink in emphasis.

His grin turned positively feral.

“I said…” he growled possesively, “Take.It.Off”

He decided that his next meeting could wait.

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