Work Text:
He stares into her fierce green eyes, and waits for her fist to lash out and connect. They had been outside for a couple of hours now, and he was starting to think about calling it quits for the day – although they were in the shade of the forest, he knew that her delicate pale skin had a tendency to burn more easily than his. The punch comes and he easily blocks it, twisting her arm up and behind her back.
“No, Miss, your stance is all wrong and your punch is still dragging.” He’s standing behind her, her arm resting up against his chest; he can feel his heart beating wildly at their proximity. “Try it again.”
She wriggles her arm free and turns to look at him, pouting; she puts her hands on her hips. “Seriously Obi, not every bandit out there is a – a ninja like you… The lessons are already paying off, so I don’t know why you insist on running drills like this. Did I tell you that I managed to sneak up on Mitsuhide in the hallway, just yesterday? Maybe you should give him lessons instead.” A smile is dancing on her lips, her eyes betraying her playfulness.
He gives her a heavy sigh and rolls his eyes. “Yes, you did tell me, and I am impressed, Miss – however, sneaking up on someone, and fighting for your life are two very different things… I want to make sure that you can actually defend yourself, not just sneak around the castle.” He settles back into his stance, and waves at her. “Again, please.”
He wants to laugh at the way she sticks her tongue out in concentration as she tries to determine where to attack him – they were going to have to work on her poker face. Fresh determination floods her features as she sets up her stance. It still needed work, but it was a huge improvement over what she had started with. He almost wishes that they could go back to the beginning though. He can feel his muscles tense at the memory of his hands holding her hips, his body pressed tightly against her back as he shadows her moves. He sees her inhale deeply, before she starts to circle him, hands up the way he taught her. He begins to move with her, his eyes never leaving hers, the graceful and deliberate moves wanting to carry him closer to her.
He doesn’t anticipate what happens next. As she’s circling him, wide green eyes entirely focused on his, she cringes and cries out in pain – her ankle twists horribly to the side. He feels the panic sweep into his veins and instantly he’s dropped his guard. Moving swiftly towards her, he reaches out to catch her – which is when she strikes. Righting her ankle, she grins at him devilishly and throws a hard punch. He doesn’t have time to react; he just admires her form as he feels her fist connect strongly with his jaw.
He feels his lip split, and can taste the blood as it winds between the dry creases, into his mouth – he couldn’t be more proud of her. He turns to spit his blood-infused saliva to the ground, without her having to see, before turning and shifting his eyes to meet her shocked green ones. The look on her face is a mixture of horror and excitement, causing him to give a low chuckle.
“Well done, Miss. I think that’s the first punch you’ve thrown that’s made a connection like that. Very crafty.” He smiles down at her, and gives her a small wink. He can feel his heart swelling heavily with happiness and adoration. “I’m glad that your punches are growing stronger, although, I’m not sure a trick like that would work on a particularly ruthless bandit. Still, I have to give you credit, that was a well thought out strategy to use on me.”
She is still looking at him in a horrified way, as if she never expected to get that close to him. He can’t be sure, but he thinks the red staining her cheeks isn’t entirely from their activity out in the sun. Her eyes quickly move from holding his gaze, to staring intently at his lips. Her hand reaches out, and her fingers dance gracefully over his jaw – her thumb rubs gently across his bottom lip. He shudders under her touch, his body longing to close the distance between them. His heart aches at the thought of how it might be to have her lips against his, instead of just her delicate thumb. He needs to shut these thoughts down, before he gets himself into trouble. Reaching up, he firmly grabs her hand from where it still stroked his jaw.
She doesn’t let him move her hand and she sounds dazed, her green eyes flicker with emotion, as she whispers, “Obi, you’re bleeding…”
His voice is a low rumble, heavy with his thoughts, “Yes, Miss. I think you’ll find that I am only human…”
She takes a step closer to him, humming, as she places her other hand against his chest. He’s sure that she can feel how his heart is throwing itself at his ribs, fighting to break free. He takes a shaky breath and searches her warm green eyes, unsure of what he might find there. He’s become incredibly aware of the minimal space she’s kept between them – each excited breath is causing their sweat-soaked shirts to meet. He’s surprised to see determination, admiration and something far less innocent, something burning hot and intimate, swimming in the depths of her green.
Before he has a chance to move or speak, she moves her hand that had been playing along his jaw, up to his hairline – her fingers neatly winding their way into his short hair. She stretches up onto her toes, tugging gently at his hair, urging him to meet her halfway. He knows that he shouldn’t. He knows that she doesn’t belong to him, and that this one stolen moment could jeopardize everything they’ve both worked towards. He knows, and yet, in this moment, he doesn’t care.
As her lips meet his, the world seems to burn around him. His arms encircle her, pulling her closer to him, and it’s still not enough. She tastes of cinnamon and blueberries, with a hint of saltiness from the sweat of their lesson. She tugs gently at his bottom lip, asking for him to deepen the kiss. Her lips are hot, soft and surprisingly demanding. His heart is in his throat, thrumming painfully, trying to remind him that she is off limits. She makes a small moaning sound from the back of her throat as his tongue gracefully moves to dance with hers. The fire consuming the world around them fights its way into his veins, threatening to burn him where he stands. Her nails drag heavily through his hair, and he feels what little self-control he had left, slip from his grasp.
He effortlessly lifts her against him – her legs now hugging his waist, her warmth begging to be closer. Their lips break apart momentarily, just long enough for her to moan his name, and he’s suddenly incredibly grateful for the loose black jogging pants he decided to wear for today’s lesson. Unsure of if his knees can take much more before he collapses from want of her he gently lowers them to the grassy forest floor.
He knows that he should stop… but he doesn’t.
He knows that his lip should hurt… but it doesn’t.
He knows that he shouldn’t love her…
That he can’t love her… But, oh, how he does.