"Metamerism" 4/? Naruto.
Jan. 3rd, 2009 10:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fireunTitle- Metamerism 4/?
Naruto
AU
It wasn’t destiny; it had to be some sort of malicious fate, holding him in its talons, staring down at him from a beady eye. The romantics in the corner would be crooning about meant-to-be’s, leaving Sasuke to deal with the sordid reality of his situation. His spine refused to unbend, to allow him to indulge in his curiosity and interrogate this intruder until all secrets were explained. Somewhere in there would be the answer.
There had to be another answer apart from impending insanity. Everyone knew artists were a bit touched, their attention caught somewhere between here and there. Insanity was the demon that haunted and hovered. Sasuke was determined to prove that it didn’t run in families, that what had touched and twisted his brother beyond recognition would never gets its teeth into him.
Which was why he couldn’t indulge, not even for an instant. He couldn’t verify the texture of blond hair, or trace the angle of cheekbones.
Sasuke curled his face into a sneer. Disdain danced along his tongue, a smokescreen against any other emotion that might try and sneak free as he spoke. “You caught my eye once, so I painted.” Caught his eye somewhere between sleeping and waking. Caught his eye and impelled his attention. “If it is money you want…”
Naruto grimaced slightly. Money, while technically being something Naruto really could use a little more of, the thought of taking it from this…bastard really grated on Naruto’s pride. “I don’t want any money. Just…quit it. And leave me alone.”
Naruto leaned close in his ire, hands aggressively placed on his hips, eyes narrowed and forehead furrowed. Sasuke felt his fingers twitch for a brush. This was a piece he hadn’t painted before, and aspect of the whole that had eluded him. Anger was thin layers of paint, the details scratched through with fingernails- harsh and sketchy. It was heavy with reds, hot with orange and yellow…
And Naruto was backing away, distancing himself from the intensity of those dark eyes. He felt dissected, devoured…connected to and claimed by this stranger. “You are one screwed up bastard.” It was a definite retreat, an attempt to get himself as far away from that weirdo and all his fucked up paintings as possible. But Naruto did swipe one of the cards off of the little table set up near the door.
The palette was a smudged mess of fingerprints and blended corners. Old paint had dried, partially hidden by new accumulations. A cup of coffee gathered a thin film across its forgotten surface where it sat on the counter, beside the creamer that had long since gone warm and bad.
Sasuke gathered paint on the pads of his fingers, blending and spreading, dragging the nail of his pinky along behind for emphasis, for detail. He needed to get the lines at the corners of the eyes just right, needed to blend the blues of the eye exactly so, darkening just a bit, pulling the lids down low into a subtly threatening expression. A dab of red smudged into each iris. Red traced a whirling wound across abdominal muscles where the tattoo usually settled. That damn spiral, traced in red.
Fractals splintered the background, and a quiet fury focused the fore…
Sasuke frowned, a headache snatching his attention and destroying his focus. He was back in the present, drying paint itching on his arm, his stomach aching with hunger.
Any second how he expected the painting in front of him to bare its teeth in the feral cousin of a proper smile.
He took the initiative and smiled first.
Naruto
AU
It wasn’t destiny; it had to be some sort of malicious fate, holding him in its talons, staring down at him from a beady eye. The romantics in the corner would be crooning about meant-to-be’s, leaving Sasuke to deal with the sordid reality of his situation. His spine refused to unbend, to allow him to indulge in his curiosity and interrogate this intruder until all secrets were explained. Somewhere in there would be the answer.
There had to be another answer apart from impending insanity. Everyone knew artists were a bit touched, their attention caught somewhere between here and there. Insanity was the demon that haunted and hovered. Sasuke was determined to prove that it didn’t run in families, that what had touched and twisted his brother beyond recognition would never gets its teeth into him.
Which was why he couldn’t indulge, not even for an instant. He couldn’t verify the texture of blond hair, or trace the angle of cheekbones.
Sasuke curled his face into a sneer. Disdain danced along his tongue, a smokescreen against any other emotion that might try and sneak free as he spoke. “You caught my eye once, so I painted.” Caught his eye somewhere between sleeping and waking. Caught his eye and impelled his attention. “If it is money you want…”
Naruto grimaced slightly. Money, while technically being something Naruto really could use a little more of, the thought of taking it from this…bastard really grated on Naruto’s pride. “I don’t want any money. Just…quit it. And leave me alone.”
Naruto leaned close in his ire, hands aggressively placed on his hips, eyes narrowed and forehead furrowed. Sasuke felt his fingers twitch for a brush. This was a piece he hadn’t painted before, and aspect of the whole that had eluded him. Anger was thin layers of paint, the details scratched through with fingernails- harsh and sketchy. It was heavy with reds, hot with orange and yellow…
And Naruto was backing away, distancing himself from the intensity of those dark eyes. He felt dissected, devoured…connected to and claimed by this stranger. “You are one screwed up bastard.” It was a definite retreat, an attempt to get himself as far away from that weirdo and all his fucked up paintings as possible. But Naruto did swipe one of the cards off of the little table set up near the door.
The palette was a smudged mess of fingerprints and blended corners. Old paint had dried, partially hidden by new accumulations. A cup of coffee gathered a thin film across its forgotten surface where it sat on the counter, beside the creamer that had long since gone warm and bad.
Sasuke gathered paint on the pads of his fingers, blending and spreading, dragging the nail of his pinky along behind for emphasis, for detail. He needed to get the lines at the corners of the eyes just right, needed to blend the blues of the eye exactly so, darkening just a bit, pulling the lids down low into a subtly threatening expression. A dab of red smudged into each iris. Red traced a whirling wound across abdominal muscles where the tattoo usually settled. That damn spiral, traced in red.
Fractals splintered the background, and a quiet fury focused the fore…
Sasuke frowned, a headache snatching his attention and destroying his focus. He was back in the present, drying paint itching on his arm, his stomach aching with hunger.
Any second how he expected the painting in front of him to bare its teeth in the feral cousin of a proper smile.
He took the initiative and smiled first.
