Naruto Follow the Bond

**I think I like using Portals in my stories, so here's another one. Basically, on a mission they all are told to 'follow the bond' to meet their soulmates, and their soulmates live on our planet, in Britain. The story follows the struggles of dealing with the bond, the struggles of falling in love and just...angst-ish romance I guess...enjoy ;) x **

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><p><span><strong>Follow the Bond<strong>

_I always say how I don't need you_

_But it's always gonna come right back to this_

Their arrival to Britain had been…_bumpy_, if anything. The landing from their world to the 'other' world had been a twisting hurricane of a journey, and they had all been spat inelegantly out into the 'other' world through the dark swirling portal, rumpled and disordered. Far from where others may see, Kakashi had planned it so that they arrived onto a vast clearing of meadows, disrupting the peace of grazing sheep. Indigo skies sparkled stars overhead, and the moon was full, glowing eerily in welcome. Dragging themselves onwards, the group had to remind themselves not to mask their chakra, because here in the 'other' world, no one was powerful ninja.

Everything was set. The 'contacts' that had been pulling strings the previous year had set them all into homes along Rinku Avenue in Musubime village, and now they stood, waiting for a bus. Watching out for the metal chunk on wheels, it was clear they were all uncomfortable with been unarmed. They could still use their chakra, but without kunai, shuriken, gourds and swords, the group felt naked, Gaara especially. Without sand he felt a little useless, and the reassuring weight of his gourd was now replaced with a heavy rucksack full to the brim with 'normal' things.

Sasuke glared into the dark night, sour with the choice in hideously alien clothing, so much different to his normal attire. He missed his long white shirt and dark blue pants, and that damn purple rope that was useful in holding his sword. It was pitiful, how an outfit change made him feel so uncomfortable, but this was…_necessary_. They were all here on a mission to find their 'other' half in the 'other' world; a world without shinobi, but with strange technology and metal frames on wheels, and rectangular objects with bright screens that people seemed so attached to. Due to the huge difference between the worlds, it had taken an entire year to prepare for living here in the 'other' world temporarily. English was learnt, as well as the law and culture in Britain, and connections and history across the globe were learnt…they were forced to endure reading commonly enjoyed books and films, to understand slang, and to learn how to use mobile phones and the like.

Sasuke hated it all, but it was a mission, and though he did not want to admit it, he wished to find his 'other' half. Dressed all in black he blended in well with the shadows, where he mulled over his new environment warily. There was the strange smell of what he could only describe as…Italian food. Kakashi had explained to him that there were different types of food from all over here, and that in order to fit in they would need to try out different foods…

The bus came, and Sasuke trudged on grimly, shoving money at the driver with the demand to go to Musubime village. Naruto scowled behind him at his obvious display of hostility.

"Teme! There's no need to act like that!"

Sasuke shrugged, making his way to the back of the bus with his ticket, closely followed by a snarling Naruto, who was currently grumpy because he had learnt there was no place that served ramen here. Sai and Sakura sat with them, both silent and determined, analysing everything in wonder and suspicion. Kakashi, dressed in a _suit_ of all things, mumbled an apology about how late it was. The time here was different to the time zone in their world, and they were all miserable. Shikamaru and Choji sat close together in front of them, and to their right were Shino and Kiba. Rock Lee was grinning next to Gaara, Kankuro and Temari, babbling to hide his nerves.

This was all too weird.

Sasuke felt Sakura looking at him with insisting eyes, and he huffed and simply stared out the window as the outside world passed by. The only reason she was with them was because she was a medical nin, just in case something bad happened, but Sasuke was well aware that she did not like the idea of him finding his 'other' half.

"What do you think she'll be like?" she whispered quietly, leaning forward.

Watching as her reflection loomed closer in the glass of the window, he saw that she was making polite conversation. She didn't really want to know about the girl, because _she _wanted to be _his_ girl. _Honestly…she's so helpless and annoying_, he thought, closing his eyes tiredly.

"Hopefully she won't be clingy and overly questioning…someone who understands personal space and won't nag at me," he answered gravely.

Sakura sighed, knowing what he was hinting at. Yes, she understood that he was never interested, but that was just it: she had forever been dreaming of the day he would confess his love for her, but now she was realistic enough to understand that her days of yearning for him were pointless. He just didn't care like she did.

Sakura wondered how he would convince his soulmate that they were meant to be. With his impassive and indifferent attitude he would be lucky to attract a _fly_. Not that he was ugly, no, that was_ impossible_, because he was simply outrageously gorgeous. It's just that his personality sucks.

"I'm _starving!"_ Naruto whined, slumping in his seat awkwardly, frowning down at his new orange shirt, "This place better have something _similar_ to ramen!"

Kakashi sighed, looking up from his Icha Icha Tactics book, an amused smile in place.

"I told you that you needed to eat other foods," he lectured wittily.

Grumbling a curse Naruto sulked, jutting his lip out in displeasure. Sasuke watched the childish display, unfazed by the drama Naruto presented, but he was himself in dramatic turmoil. He was stuck in a mission with people who still didn't trust him since his return to the village, and he was meant to find his future beloved. Sasuke could almost taste the bloodlust and hate from Kankuro and Gaara…Temari wasn't quite as bad, but she did cast a glare upon him sometimes.

This was all just _annoying._

"Sasuke!"

He sighed, turning to the spiky blonde, taking in the headphones they had forced on him previously in order to achieve an 'image'. It wasn't as if Naruto was displeased with the headphones himself, but Sasuke hated it when he blasted out tunes and danced shamelessly…

"What?"

"I _said_, 'I hope yours removes that stick from up your ass!" Naruto growled, a fox-sly grin in place.

Sakura bashed him on the head, but Sasuke grew rigid from Naruto's words, because that was what he was worrying about himself. All his life he had been a dull, monotone guy driven by revenge and the thirst for power, he admits it, but he's never really tried to woo a girl or whatever.

All his energy had to be forced into being 'desirable'.

The bus stopped, and Kakashi led them all off the bus, leading Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura and Sai directly to their new house. Kakashi jiggled his keys as they all inspected the front door suspiciously, inspecting the clear number 9 on the _orange_ door. Sasuke groaned inwardly, watching as Choji, Shikamaru, Kiba, Rock Lee and Shino were led to their house by Yamato, and as Gaara and his siblings were led to their accommodation by Baki. Each of them had 'guardians', for obvious reasons, but Sasuke still disliked it. He was eighteen now, he didn't need a_ fucking_ _babysitter_ to watch his every move!

_Damn that Tsunade…_

With a click the hideous orange door opened, and they were met with the darkness of their new living room. Kakashi casually switched the light on, and Sakura instantly giggled at the sight before them.

The place was…bohemian meets crazed retro? There were deep green walls, woven purple carpets, brightly patterned cushions and sofas with patchwork print in blue, orange, yellow and green. Strange paintings littered the walls, of frogs with umbrellas and pigs drinking tea, and there was a small statue of a panda holding a watering can.

It was truly awful. Even Naruto had better taste in fashion.

"Well…" Kakashi sighed heavily, sweat dropping at the place, "Might Guy offered to do the decorating while I was on a mission…"

Naruto wrinkled his nose.

"What's that smell? It's suffocating," he wheezed, but then found the offender immediately…incense.

"It's ylang ylang, Naruto, "Kakashi murmured distractedly, inspecting an African drum in the corner, "It's potent, I know, but just deal with it and I'll open a window."

There was no need to unpack since things had been taken care of beforehand, so they all went straight to the one thing they had been wanting since their arrival.

Food.

They hadn't eaten since morning, due to the ride being bumpy, so they had all starved themselves so that they wouldn't puke upon arrival.

Naruto and Sasuke were the first to explode through the kitchen door, fighting their way towards the fridge and freezer, digging into the cold caves to find something to satisfy their hunger. They both wanted a microwave meal, something quick and easy, but that of course led to an argument over who was going to use the microwave first. Sakura and Sai agreed cooking a proper meal together, attempting to make spaghetti Bolognese, to which Kakashi asked if he may also have some.

No one mentioned the mission at hand for the time being, considering they were tired, hungry and wanting to get used to their surroundings, but it was all on their minds. They were all thinking about their soulmates, and about what they looked like and so on. Tsunade, in their opinion, had been a bitch about not giving them the profiles, because she had claimed that they should discover them through the bond they share.

Sasuke hated the feeling of the bond sometimes; that warm tugging that formed in his stomach, telling him which direction his girl was. Sometimes the connection revealed what she was feeling, and small aspects of her personality…from this, Sasuke knew she was calm and sharp-_knowledgeable._ She always caught him off guard, sending him glimpses of what she was doing. A hand swiftly writing an essay, the writing loopy and small, or the pages of a thick book that looked difficult to read because the writing was so little. Sasuke caught other things, the view of a black cat glaring, of the world turning upside down as she flipped and twisted in acrobatics…

It was unfair that he never caught a glimpse of her looking at herself in the mirror, because then he would see her. More than anything, he wanted to be prepared when he saw her.

The rest of the house was just as strange as the living room, and as Sasuke sat beside Naruto on the eccentric sofa, he wondered if she ever caught a glimpse of what he was looking at. He wished she didn't though, because that would mean she had seen people die, a world of shinobi and the happenings of brutal missions.

Since the soulmate connection had occurred over a year ago, and he had been seeing things from her since…it was highly likely that she had seen some dark things.

"My girl is studying _again_," Naruto whined, stuffing his face with food, "That's all she ever does! Study, write essays, read, play tennis…sometimes I can see and hear her lessons…so fucking _boring!"_

Sakura scolded him, but Naruto had reason to be pessimistic. He was the hyperactive blonde who hated studying, and over the past year he had been forced to due to the glimpses into his soulmates life. But the truth was, he was intimidated because it was clear she was intelligent, and he so clearly wasn't that super smart.

"She really does nothing else?" Sai inquired gravely, "Mine is always drawing and when he walks he stares at the ground. I have concluded that he is shy."

Sai was the only one who had managed to see his soulmate through the glimpses given, and he was proud to say he was a tall white blonde male covered in paint. To say the least, it didn't sit well with the others. It was so unfair…so _fucking unfair_…

"Gaara gets nothing from his. Just feels a strange sense of tension," Naruto piped up, rubbing crumbs on his jeans, "He told me it's like…like a trembling darkness that's trying to hold something in."

Everyone raised an eyebrow at this, but then all sighed in unison when the large purple clock tolled midnight. Kakashi stuffed his book in his pocket, announcing they had to get ready for bed, and they all complied quietly.

_**Violet**_

Brushing through her long chestnut coloured waves, Violet suddenly jolted upright, her mind suddenly casting a strange image in her head.

_Not again, for fucks sake_, she frowned, biting down on her lip as the image blurred out her current surroundings, and portrayed a completely different setting to her. She didn't know what to do about the images that came and went as unexpectedly as the British rain, nor did she want to tell anyone else. They'd lock her in the mad house for sure, and she didn't want that, _god no!_

So she dealt with the images, even though they sometimes scared her, leaving her traumatised for long paralysing moments where she was sure she couldn't breathe. Other times, they were just odd…there were a lot of images of swords, of eating white rice and taking a long walk through a forest…sometimes she heard voices, other times she could feel sensations that were not her own, like a cool breeze or intense pain.

Most of the time though, her eyes ached with such a fierce heated throbbing that it made her dizzy.

Right now, she was met with an image of a mirror, and in the mirror was the face of someone she did not know. Violet sank her teeth deeper into her bottom lip, paralysed when she saw the onyx eyes and fear provoking expression…she'd never seen anyone in these images before, so this was new, and she was scared beyond imagination. The eyes were so cold that she felt an icy sweat envelop her, and when she saw the face look closer to the mirror her heart lurched. The boy was attractive, yes, but he was dangerous, she could tell. He looked like a bad boy from a gangster film, or an evil vampire character…

Said stranger was…doing something unexpected, which forced an unforeseen laugh from Violet's throat. He was fucking pouting over how his hair wasn't spiking in the right direction, and he was prodding his frown lines sullenly, with such a forlorn expression that Violet could almost deem it adorable.

Violet thought she was insane, no doubt about it. She saw things that weren't there, felt things, and now she's laughing at the people in her head. Yeah…she's fucking mental…

"So is this meant to be the guy portraying all those images to me?" she guessed to herself quietly, growing rigid when the gaze of the stranger left the mirror, and turned towards a window.

Her stomach knotted in dread, because out of the window she could see another window across the street, illuminated by a yellow glow from the light bulb. There was a girl, sitting, brush in hand, staring at herself in the mirror…it was Violet. Feeling her body move, neck craning towards her own window, she looked outside.

It was dark, but she could see that there was someone standing in the window opposite her house. Someone tall, dark haired and pale…

Violet choked back a cry of horror, standing up abruptly and slamming her hairbrush down, her other hand clamped over her mouth so she couldn't scream. It was happening then. She really was losing her mind, if suddenly the people in her head were coming out to play.

The boy looked shocked, rigid, and they both stared at each other, eyes wide. Her heart pounded so hard she thought her little body would snap. She felt so vulnerable, dressed in her short nightie and cat slippers, so unarmed and naked as that black gaze cut through her like a knife.

If it was all in her head, then she had no reason to fear he would hurt her because he wasn't real, but she was losing sense of the boundaries between reality and fantasy. The canvas of life was twisted, ripped and torn; there wasn't much left.

A hand raised, the boy was touching the glass as though to reach for her, and Violet fled. She had never run so fast, so ungracefully and desperately, but she ran, and hid in the safest place she could think of…the bathroom closet. Tears of acid dripped hot paths down her face; she had reached her limit, her body couldn't take anymore. The images were still playing in her mind, and the boy's face was engraved in her memory, a white stone face, with eyes so black that from a distance it looked like he had hollows in his sockets. Everything was building up, surging, struggling up her throat to force a scream that she desperately tried to hold down.

It was too much, her body buckled and slumped limp, supported by the bundles of towels in the bathroom closet. There she stayed, all night, fainted in an awkward position within the closet, cramped and irregularly half standing half leaning-sitting…

Violet could not escape him in her dreams though.

_**Gaara**_

Kankuro was pacing the freshly decorated dining room, anxious despite him insisting he was just tired. His girl lived opposite them, as did Naruto's and Sasuke's girls were living opposite their house. Kankuro had just been studying the poppies at the front of the house when he had seen her, looking like she had gone out with friends that night.

Then, he had fled into the house faster than thought, sweating buckets as if he had just seen a ghost. Since then, Gaara had simply watched as his older brother paced and paced from one side of the room to the other.

From the information that they had gotten about their partners, Kankuro's girl was still in in college at the age of twenty doing a Contemporary Arts Practice Foundation Degree, and from what he had just seen she had purple dreadlocks, piercings, tattoos and a funky taste in fashion…the itsy-bitsy tiny black leather shorts being evidence of that…According to the 'contacts' they had, his girl had been travelling with her ecstatic mother for three years.

Gaara closed his eyes, knowing his girl lived down the road, with her grandma apparently. He could feel that she was awake, amazingly, and his mind kept drifting into images of shadows and swirling blacks. It made him dizzy and his eyes always ached afterwards, but sometimes there was an image of some kind. From within the shadowy black of the image, he could make out something like a black dress, or black curls. Sometimes, if he was exceptionally lucky, there was the view of black lacy underwear that he found very tasteful.

Perverted? Yes, Gaara was very, very perverted sometimes, but he would never admit it. He preferred to just indulge his vivid imagination and fantasise a dirty situation from time to time.

"Gaara?" Temari's voice called suddenly, jerking his imagination to the real world, "You're drooling."

Blushing furiously he wiped at the corner of his mouth, annoyed with himself for being so obvious. Temari was currently eying him with suspicious eyes, seemingly speculating what his girl was showing to him in his glimpses into her life.

"Sorry, just tired," he lied smoothly, closing his black-lidded eyes, "It's lucky we have the weekend free before we start college on Monday."

Temari nodded, settling back on her seat with a heavy sigh.

"Yeah, it is. That means we have two days to prepare you for other worldly education," she smirked, adjusting her full length black skirt so she could examine her favourite new shoes, "I'll be at home carrying out my mission, don't worry. I'll invite the new 'neighbours' over for a nice chat to settle in the neighbourhood over a nice meal…I'm sure that if we befriend the parents we'll get closer to your girls."

Gaara nodded calmly, his mind seeing images of a darkened bedroom, and hearing the rustle of clothing dropping. He focussed on breathing evenly, and on hiding the desire flaring up inside him.

"You can't cook, Temari. Have Baki make the meal, he's capable of making 'other' world food."

Temari scowled at that, tempted to throw a shoe at him, but Kankuro suddenly burst into a loud growling fit, kicking at a chair in anguish.

"Those long legs in those tiny damn fucking shorts! It should be illegal! No girl dresses like that, right? In Suna everyone wore modest clothing; how am I meant to survive if I constantly have a view of her delicious ass?" he rambled, pulling at his hair in irritation.

Temari threw her shoe at him, right at the back of the head, eyebrow twitching at her younger brother's crudeness.

"You better not grope her ass, you thick-headed fool!" she warned, eyes glinting dangerously, "Laws on groping innocent women is the same here as back home; you'll be in deep shit."

Kankuro whirled around, baring his teeth angrily.

"You think I'd do something so horrible! I mean I won't be able to talk to her without getting perverted thoughts in my head!" he argued, flopping down into a chair with a giant huff, "At the end of the day I am a man, and a man likes ass. She has a _mighty_ fine ass!"

Gaara opened his eyes with great effort, struggling to keep awake.

"So you're an 'ass' man?" he enquired, "I'm more of a breasts lover myself, in all honesty, but sometimes I do look at the behind."

Temari and Kankuro gaped at Gaara, for he never voiced his preferences. Not even if there was a fan girl jiggling her breasts in his face he wouldn't show any signs of attraction, he would just blink and ask about when his next meeting was.

Apparently he was not so innocent like they had all suspected.

"Any luck with seeing more of your girl?" Kankuro asked awkwardly, running his hand through his hair, "Or is it still just blackness?"

Stiffening, Gaara frowned and closed his eyes, trying to hide how he felt on the subject. Really, he hated not knowing as much about his girl as the others did, and he hated not knowing what this meant.

"Sometimes I can vaguely see black clothing and curls, but I cannot see anything else. Just shadows."

They all went silent, until Baki came out of the kitchen holding freshly made soup. Grateful for the interruption and food, they dug in, all trying to avoid dwelling on the worrying nature of what Gaara kept seeing from his soulmate.

_**Ianthe**_

Grandma Yara had said goodnight already and was asleep in her room, and Ianthe was getting dressed for bed herself. Today had been another dull, long day where she really didn't know if it had been worth anything at all. Another day, of drifting through life invisible to everyone, and of being numb from being used to just '_being'._

She knew her issues ran deeper than just the loneliness she felt, but ran back to her parents. Her mother died of a drugs overdose and had burnt the house down in the process while Ianthe had been at her grandmas, and her father was in prison for selling drugs and for assaulting someone. At the fragile age of six, Ianthe was sent to live with her grandma, and she did love her grandma immensely…but…it wasn't enough to be loved by just one person alone. Ianthe was convinced her grandma only took her in out of pity, and she knew her parents never gave a fuck about her.

It was just Ianthe as far as she was concerned. Her view on life felt empty, dark, and sometimes felt like a black veil was covering her eyes so that she couldn't find her happiness. To make things worse, she 'saw' things. When she was just going about her miserable life, suddenly she was transported to a place of sand, so bright and warm that she almost felt glad of seeing things that were not there. She looked forward to the bright views of the sand dunes, and of the piles of paperwork being attended to with strong looking hands. Ianthe liked to finally see some colour, and right now…she could see those same hands that belonged to that stranger in her mind, and those hands were masculine, finely etched with lines.

Yes, she enjoyed the vivid colours, and as she sat in the dark of her room, curled up on the bed, she relished in the short moment of feeling alive. It took her away from harsh reality, and let her feel like the world was a better place.

Rain pelted the window from outside, but Ianthe ignored it, focussing on those hands she saw in her mind, seeing them sort through items from a rucksack, lifting out books, pens and folders. She wondered what the folders contained, but she then realised she shouldn't care. As long as she could see in colour nothing else mattered.

_**Kiba**_

Shikamaru was still grouchy from his break up with Temari, even though it was his own fault for dating her even though his soulmate bond had been established. The break up was clean and simple, agreed on from both sides, but Kiba knew that the two of them were not at all happy with the separation, and by the fact that Shikamaru would be falling in love with someone else.

Yet, they broke up, and know they were both suffering from their actions. For someone so intelligent, Kiba thought, he really did do stupid things sometimes.

It was all oddly quiet, with Shikamaru sitting gazing out the window, analysing the rain smearing the view outside. Shino was playing chess with Choji in the corner, and the two of them were both oddly depressed. Yamato made no effort to lift the silence, but was curiously inspecting a bonsai, dark eyes unmoving and large…Kiba found it creepy, absolutely, but he had no energy to move anymore. Akamaru wasn't allowed to come with them because he was too big for the 'other' world, and there were other reasons too, but it felt so unfair.

Even Rock Lee, who he relied on to make things hyperactive and action packed, was silent…asleep on the sofa, drooling.

He never asked for this. It just…kinda _happened._

Strangely enough, it was times like these that he missed having those mystery glimpses into his soulmates life, because oddly enough he found it comforting. It felt like he could escape, and that he could just let someone else make him happy. Right now his soulmate was…dancing…again. There was that same weird song playing, the one she always danced to. It was always before the chorus that she would jump onto the bed and bounce, dive and twist, crazed and so fucking hyper Kiba was sure she had the energy of Naruto personified.

Yes, Kiba was always up for getting wild, but sometimes he really doubted that he'd be able to last in energy next to this chick.

Her room was gold and white, a little posh despite the girl who owned it, and it was all very elegant and Victorian. Glossy floors stretched around the bed, and there was a chandelier that hung like frozen raindrops from up above. Kiba was well aware that the room was never normally _this_ tidy, because his gal was messy as fuck. During her dancing she created a battlefield of clutter.

"I'm trouble, yeah trouble now, I'm trouble y'all, I _disturb_ my town. I'm trouble, yeah trouble now, I'm trouble y'all, I got trouble in my town!" she sang, hip swinging and kicking her pillows off the bed, "_Man,_ I fucking love this song!"

Kiba chuckled, ignoring the looks that he earned from the others in the room, and he simply hummed, content with his crazed girl going god damn loopy. However, there was always a frustration that built up inside him, because he could never see his girl in these glimpses. The glimpses were always from her eyes, so it was what she was seeing and doing, and so he couldn't actually see her dancing as if she were a drunk gone mad.

He wanted, so fucking, fucking much, to just see her as she danced, and laugh with her as she laughed. Kiba had tried to explain it to Shikamaru, but Shikamaru was…well. Shikamaru was doing his best to ignore his own soulmate, so he was no use to talk to.

Shino listened, but never commented. The darned fly creep was also trying to ignore his soulmate, despite admitting that he needed her because he needed to be loved.

_So…damn…fucking…annoying!_

Kiba felt like he was the only one who cared sometimes, but it also made him feel manlier, due to him caring actually meant he would do all in his power to make his gal happy.

Cracking his knuckles he gathered himself from the chair, moving to get ready for bed, but Shikamaru caught his wrist before he could leave.

"Hey, this is troublesome but…can we watch each other's backs in case we get rejected?" he drawled, his dark eyes burning with slow intensity.

Kiba shrugged.

"It hasn't even started yet and you're acting like it's over," Kiba retorted smartly, glaring slightly at Shikamaru.

Said man's lip twitched, something very unlike him since it took a lot to anger him, but his face just deadpanned as he returned his attention to the rain outside.

Kiba grew frustrated at the guy's silence, hating how he could be so cruel as to ignore the glimpses into his girl's life. Moving inelegantly towards the door to leave, Kiba prepared to slam the door loudly, just to make a point, but Shikamaru turned towards him again, locking eyes with such a heated fury that it could burn.

"Her name is Quinn Eszes, by the way," Shikamaru growled, teeth gritted as he spat out the words, "I care enough to know her name. Quinn…Eszes."

Balking from the situation, Kiba felt guilt surge inside. It must be hard, leaving your past lover, moving on to meet your soulmate despite still loving your ex. It seemed, Kiba reluctantly admitted, that he had underestimated Shikamaru's feelings.

_**Cleo**_

Everything was overwhelming at the moment, and dancing naked wasn't helping to distract her from her current situation. Not even listening to her favourite album by Pink was helping, nor how much she kicked and messed up her bed…

Cleo finally switched off her music in defeat, lying flat on the bed. In her mind, she did not know what was wrong, nor what could possibly help.

She'd just split up from her boyfriend of three years, whom she'd met in school and had carried on dating in the first year of college…but she had seen him, buck naked and fucking some damn blonde Barbie with jammy lips and huge tits…she couldn't shake the image from her head, and it had been a week since it had happened.

Now, Cleo is not a quiet girl, and she's not one to run from a fight…but seeing the guy she loved having sex with someone else tore out her heart, and for once in her life she fled. He didn't chase her, text her or Facebook her. No, he didn't _care_ enough to explain himself, and Cleo didn't want any excuses. He'd cheated, it was over, and now she felt as if her heart had been crushed and kicked into mush.

Part of the reason she was so hurt was because she hadn't seen it coming, and the other reason was because the girl he was with was so pretty….Cleo had wild untamed afro black hair, and her skin was a deep Italian tan. Her eyes were dark blue, unwavering, sharp and admittedly a little unnerving…the blonde Barbie was everything she wasn't.

Yet, the biggest reason it hurt was because it was him, and she loved him. Now she just wanted to wrap her hands around his throat and squeeze until he apologised… or perhaps she'd just carry on squeezing anyway, until his eyes bulged out his skull and his face turned a blotchy red. Cleo enjoyed imagining doing that, but only when she was having an episode. However, for around two days, her fury had died down, and she just felt numb.

Wondering if it was her fault became her favourite pastime. She had, of course, admitted to him that she saw things that weren't there, and occasionally a giant white dog would appear…yeah, that sounded pretty _cuckoo_ to her, but she had trusted her boyfriend enough to support her through her ordeal.

But she wasn't _crazy_. Of course people would describe her as such, but not in the 'crazy' way that implied that she needed medical help and therapy. To her, Cleo was always supposed to feel like the strong, wild and overly hyperactive afro head that she was, but recently she'd been feeling low. Not herself. Bland. Dull. Incredibly in need of something to perk her up again.

Considering calling Violet, Cleo rolled onto her stomach, legs crossed at the ankles, lips pursed and eyes half-lidded in speculation. Violet had recently seemed distracted herself, about what Cleo had no fucking clue about, but she had the feeling that Violet would be asleep anyway. Even Violet slept sometimes...

Ophelia? _Naah_…she'd only just gotten back from holiday in Greece, so she'd _definitely _be asleep.

Cleo glared at her golden room then, lips pulled down in a sullen line.

"Everyone is hopeless," she muttered grimly, slouching tiredly into her pillow, "So what now?"

Then, as if on cue, one of those 'things' started to happen, where it was as if her vision was being transported elsewhere. Sometimes she wondered if it was an outer body experience, but after a lot of research she just wasn't sure. Slowly, her eyes adjusted, and she blinked as she found herself staring at…yum. Cleo bit down on her lip, studying the delicious display of midriff that her view was displaying. It was as if she was the guy looking down on his stomach, and she knew that if she wasn't so heartbroken she'd be tempted to ride that guy to oblivion as she bounced on his cock. The skin was smooth and tanned, bronzed by the sun, and the muscles were rippling as they moved to complete an action. Holy _fuck,_ Cleo could see hipbones that she'd like to lick and nibble on until she trailed her way to the meaty pleasure that lay hidden under those pesky black boxers…

Yep; definitely crazy. Turned on by something that's not even there, wishing to fuck herself limp as she impaled herself on cock. Yeah…crazy as hell, she decided. Way too crazy.

Aroused she stretched herself out on her back, breathing heavily as the boxers slipped off clumsily, revealing that manhood that she had been yearning for since seeing his delicious abs. If she had known watching naked guys would help get over her prick of an ex, she would have done this sooner. Damn, that's one _thick _cock…

Completely mesmerised she watched as the guy ran his hand down his stomach slowly, caressing gently as if to tantalise his senses. Cleo gripped her hair, and suddenly, as though way too impatient, she saw the hand wrap around that meaty cock. His thumb rubbed over his tip, drawing out a soft moan that seemed to make Cleo blush. Biting harder into her bottom lip, she could feel herself squirming, aching to be in the same place as that guy, preparing for a good ol hard fuck that'll have her limping the next day.

However, before things got juicy with the hot slick pumping of the hand, her vision threw her back into her bedroom, and she blinked angrily at the white ceiling of her room.

"Damn…" she hissed, punching at her pillow furiously, "I just fell in love with a penis. I'm such a horny fucker…"

She'd be damned if she met the guy who owned that glorious body. Cleo just knew that if he just, ya know, randomly took off his shirt then she'd be climbing him like a horny squirrel.

Yep; _definitely_ crazy.

At this rate she didn't trust that fate would let her ever find a guy who really loved her. Might as well just…have fun? As someone with such a high libido, she had to do something to satisfy her cravings, but she was not a slut. Cleo was…used to having a boyfriend who would satisfy her, and her ex was a sex bunny too, so they'd always been at it. Now though…she had no one to fuck her so hard that her body would collapse and her pussy would throb with pulsing pleasures.

Man, she wished that she wasn't crazy. No one fucks a crazy gal, ya know?

* * *

><p><strong>I wrote this a while ago, and it's gonna be slow writing this, but I'll get it done eventually. Hope you liked ;)<strong>

_**Please review, advise and criticise!**_

**More soon, hopefully, but I have three stories on the go. Don't hate me! **


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Naruto, Romance