tangled beauty

Ino’s short black dress hugs her thighs as she tips her chin and presses her lips against Neji’s.

3 minutes earlier

Blue eyes rimmed with green sparkle with liquor as Ino smiles at the person next to her – the one most unlikely one at that, she muses and sips her drink. His hair falls magnificently down his back and spills over his shoulders, framing his marble face with night. Or so she thinks it would, were he not so stoic and were the said hair not in a tight bundle gathered in the nape of his neck.

Their eyes meet and Ino lets out a twinkling waving laugh, leaning her chin on her hand. She doesn’t ask what has brought him there and settles for keeping his gaze with unfamiliar friendliness and interest. Neji’s eyes are grey in the smoke of the bar and Ino’s are clearer than an unmuddied lake in a crispy spring evening and they see beauty in all things.

And it is no wonder that she sees it in him, from under thick eyelashes and mascara, because there is scarce anything to hide on his face.

“You’re really pretty. Prettier than a girl, almost.”

Neji’s gaze slides over her wrist that is elegantly flexed to hold the cup of sake straight and over the mahogany table they are sitting at and settle at the crook of her shoulder and neck (unintentionally, he says to himself, though she has a remarkably ugly scar there).

“Let’s see...” Ino puts her finger on her lower lip and tips her head to the left side, trying to gain a better overview. “Yes, like this.” And before Neji has time to say no her swift hands undo his carefully made ponytail, scattering his hair what seems all over them.

Pleased with herself, Ino runs a hand through her own short hair, as if remembering what it felt like to have a lovely sea of golden hair there, a discreet streak of regret passing over her face. “Now you really are prettier than a girl, I tell you. Go ask anyone.”

“No thank you. I’m fine as it is,” Neji replies curtly, already collecting the hair to its place, wondering why he even bothers to keep it long.

“Ah, don’t do that. You’re much more beautiful that way.”

Neji pays no heed until he feels a hand gripping his wrist. He doesn’t know what compels him to release his hold and let his hair fall down his back in a straight river; whether it is her eyes that tell he has twenty seconds to comply, or the carnival evening filled with candle lights and the scent of plums. Ino keeps her grasp and absentmindedly strokes the veins that run blue on his wrist, staring at him who now shines with unrivalling beauty in her eyes.

She sees beauty in many things – all things, she’d like to say – but it is seldom such grace is granted on a human male being. This moment, she thinks, needs something to remember it by and so she holds out her cup in an honoring and drinks it down in one gulp.

Setting the cup back on the table, Ino leans closer to Neji and touches his lips with hers. “Cheers,” she whispers against his lips and sits back on her chair, leaning her chin on her hand.

end