The echoing of his own words have him blinking. He said that, didn’t he? He admitted he’d like to cut his friend, and despite Naruto’s acceptance of this bloodlust, his offer, the entirety of it settles on him heavily. To do it to a stranger is one thing, its easier, he’s realizing. Because was settles in his stomach is a conflicting set of emotions. To protect his bonds, to protect Naruto, its something he’s wrapped his entire existence, and to turn around and injure with his own hand…
Its from stoic practice that he doesn’t wince at himself or turn away from those searching eyes. But even practice can’t stop his eyes from widening as the scar on his forehead is touched, traced. And he can hardly breath as he tries to read the purpose of that gesture on Naruto’s face, as he wonders what he’s thinking, what prompted this sudden curiosity. He can remember his own words to Naruto when they first met, a philosophy etched into his forehead. A constant reminder on his forehead, just as it’s a constant reminder every time he hears his name, Gaara- a demon that loves only himself.
But that strange bit of information cuts through the silence, through Gaara’s own thoughts, and his green gaze settles on the marks on Naruto’s cheeks. Don’t scar. There’s an understanding there, its not quite the same, but he knows that frustration. So many battles he’s walked out of without a single scratch, no physical proof he had just proven his existence again except the added blood in his sand.] I can’t remember how many times I attempted to cut myself, how disappointed I was each time the sand stopped my blade. A pain I wanted to learn. [Because he was so tired of the pain in his heart.
It only seems right to share, and maybe sometime he’ll share the reason behind that tattoo carved into his head by a consuming pain and sand. Because those words have settled that conflict inside of him. He won’t be hurting Naruto. That’s not what this is about. He’s been given an opportunity, to help Naruto with something he wants, to make a mark that Naruto can look down at and remember-possibly something to remember him. And when he thinks of the fate that may greet him should he ever find his way back, to leave a physical impression seems just that much more important.
He appreciates the offer, but why would he ask for something else when what Naruot wants, what he’s asking from him is already something he’s eager to do, something he wants to do. And he reaches out, slides his hand under a ducked chin and lifts it, gives his friend a brief smile and a nod.] I’d like to be the one to give you a reminder.
[action]
Its from stoic practice that he doesn’t wince at himself or turn away from those searching eyes. But even practice can’t stop his eyes from widening as the scar on his forehead is touched, traced. And he can hardly breath as he tries to read the purpose of that gesture on Naruto’s face, as he wonders what he’s thinking, what prompted this sudden curiosity. He can remember his own words to Naruto when they first met, a philosophy etched into his forehead. A constant reminder on his forehead, just as it’s a constant reminder every time he hears his name, Gaara- a demon that loves only himself.
But that strange bit of information cuts through the silence, through Gaara’s own thoughts, and his green gaze settles on the marks on Naruto’s cheeks. Don’t scar. There’s an understanding there, its not quite the same, but he knows that frustration. So many battles he’s walked out of without a single scratch, no physical proof he had just proven his existence again except the added blood in his sand.] I can’t remember how many times I attempted to cut myself, how disappointed I was each time the sand stopped my blade. A pain I wanted to learn. [Because he was so tired of the pain in his heart.
It only seems right to share, and maybe sometime he’ll share the reason behind that tattoo carved into his head by a consuming pain and sand. Because those words have settled that conflict inside of him. He won’t be hurting Naruto. That’s not what this is about. He’s been given an opportunity, to help Naruto with something he wants, to make a mark that Naruto can look down at and remember-possibly something to remember him. And when he thinks of the fate that may greet him should he ever find his way back, to leave a physical impression seems just that much more important.
He appreciates the offer, but why would he ask for something else when what Naruot wants, what he’s asking from him is already something he’s eager to do, something he wants to do. And he reaches out, slides his hand under a ducked chin and lifts it, gives his friend a brief smile and a nod.] I’d like to be the one to give you a reminder.