#so no hiding this essay for the dash I'm afriad

[masshirohebi-moved]

Affections Starter ✔ - to carry my muse bridal style // @peepingtoad “If alcohol poisoning doesn’t kill you dear, Tsunade-hime certainly will,” they say, golden eyes following their team mate with little amusement. This mission certainly was a slap in the face. A measly C rank, for shinobi of such high caliber they demanded nothing short of an S rank. Of course, that had been due to banter and tomfoolery. Where the trio got up to shenanigans that truly weren’t up to the standard of their reputation. Again - not their fault. That mission had also been a waste of their talent. And when sharp minds were not presented a challenge, they so often sought appropriate stimulation for themselves. As such, a lesser task is given as some kind of punishment. Either way, drinking on the job (even an easy job) likely wasn’t advised. Regardless of if the group could handle this assignment half asleep. It had been the serpents idea to have the first drink, and maybe the second and third... But they swear on a shinobi’s oath that the drinks to follow were all Jiraiya’s idea. And so, they decide to pull this game to a stop, so that if Tsunade did come across the drinking duo, they could swiftly place all blame on the man beside them. Getting out of jail by truthfully saying they had told him to stop too. Underhanded? Yes, but he knew who he was dealing with. The trio had been told to fit in, and as such, formal attire is donned over their figures. And what an experience it was to see how eye catching Jiraiya could be in flows of his dark hued haori and kimono. They catch themself staring a bit more than was acceptable for mere meaninglessness curiosity, but then, they swear he passes them the same look. And they can not help it, with the moon cast a glow over their figures, the lanterns casting a glow on the scattered cherry blossom path, the gowns, the music, the stolen glances and of course, the stolen breaths. It is truly romantic, even if the serpent isn’t one for such cliches to begin with. Something about him under the pale night sky makes each aspect more enchanting. Running off to share a few secret drinks behind thicker forest foliage proves a grave mistake when they feel something cold cling to their lower leg. Water splashes on to their furisode, the reflection of mud evident on the shades of lilac. They huff softly, a hand running through their hair to keep it out their face as they examine the damage. “How wonderful,” they mutter, tossing their partner in crime a rather unimpressed look, but his smile doesn’t waver, and they’d have called him out on his sadistic pleasure if only he hadn’t solved their problem with one long stride. Their slender form is scooped up, the mud below no longer able to reach the flowing bottom of their gown. He will evidently sacrifice his own attire, which had been more practical from the get go they now acknowledge. And perhaps it is the alcohol, or the fact that their lips are so close, but they feel a flutter in their stomach which forces brief silken laughter from their throat.

for it is then that they realize what a powerful thing love was. That love could make people stronger. That love could fill empty spaces. That love could bring people together.

Too caught off guard by the closeness, they can not help but dread him kissing them. Even if they have wanted it since first sighting him all dressed up. They fear it now. That if they lock eyes a moment too long, he may expose them more than they are willing to be exposed. That they may fumble and lose their mask of being perfect, that they may miss his lips and make a fool of themself. The pressure is too much, so they brush him off with a far too well done lie of carelessness. Looking away to leave him as the last one lingering with a ‘what if’ look in his eyes, returning to what they are, mere friends, “you owe me this much, it was your bad idea to come here,” they settle with saying, a friendly sounding accusation. But perhaps it merely being friendly is what will be hurtful all the same. If there is any pain in his eyes from rejection, they do not look to see it. For if they do sight any disappointment or misery, they will know that he had in fact been wanting the same. That they had blown off the chance due to a crippling dread that he didn’t see them that way. When he places them back down, they are among the festivities once more. They offer to fetch something from the buffet, in a means to settle any nausea that may follow from drinking. To ‘sober up quickly’ they had said, but both knew the viper never cared for eating much. So if ever there had been a poorer lie to spin for getting a momentary breather, they had certainly spoken it. All the same, the moment away from him gives them time to think. To reread his body language, to go over his words again and again. The signs... they were not imagining them, surely? Maybe once or twice, but this has not been the only occasion where their male companion offers a suggestive moment, where he leaves it in their hands to answer. Fear has made them behave this way too often, perhaps that is it. Perhaps their cautiousness is costing them. And since when did they ever let fear be their master? It is decided rather finally in their mind, that they would set the stage again. That a moment lost didn’t end the game. That they could make the first step and see his reaction, to finally get an answer to their question. They cross the enchanting path and search the crowd for him, but it is perhaps their biggest regret to find the man. Golden eyes land on his figure, then hers. And how he looks at her with the same eyes... if not something more. Tsunade and Jiraiya always did look far more comfortable together. The scene made more sense. He didn’t have to play guessing games with her, he didn’t have to catch her socially in situations, nor predict when a mood had declined and he needed to clear the crowd. And it catches them by quite the surprise how cold they feel when they spot the two speaking. How natural it is for the two to converse, how his smile is so brutally genuine. And they realize now that perhaps thinking him shy due to their hesitance was a juvenile belief. He wasn’t shy when she said no, why would he be shy when they had merely said maybe? Fools did not let evidence lead them to a conclusion, they found a conclusion and let it lead them to evidence. Was that what they were doing then? Playing the fool and tricking themself in to thinking he was just as enchanted by them as they were him? Suddenly they feel a great detest for the misleading moon and it’s promising glow, they feel repulsion at the scattered pink petals across the cobbled floor, the grotesque shades of light emitted from lanterns, the sickeningly cheery music, the charade of pretty gowns.

For it is then that they realize what a powerful thing love was. That love could make people vulnerable. That love could create empty spaces. That love could tear people a part.

#||●ANSWERED-❝disclosed❞ #peepingtoad #my read more is broken heh #so no hiding this essay for the dash I'm afriad #also :') #these two need to a relationship councilor before they have even gotten to the dating section of love #they are useless #/long post #/novella #||●QUEUE-❝the white serpent hides❞