Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or it's respected characters
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or it's respected characters. It belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.
Author's Note: I've read many a story here on since for about 7 years. I attempted to write a story centering around me based on Sailor Moon and failed miserably when I was 15. I went back and read it a few months ago and laughed at how inexplicably horrible my plot line and writing was. I decided to write a Naruto fic because I am obsessed and have been reading several stories from many different authors and have been inspired again to write my own. So, please go easy on me. This will either be a one shot or a couple of chapters depending on the reviews I get.
A few authors' I recommend you check out is cynchick, leafygirl, ronsmyhero, and Silvershine.
The pairing in this ficlet centers around Sakura and Naruto. They are both 21. Be warned there may be some spoilers!! Enjoy!
Impulse
Chapter 1: Of Selfish Rapture
"Please," she choked out, looking at him pleadingly. "I need this. I need you."
How could he deny her? That look in those hauntingly beautiful eyes of her. He couldn't say no. He had loved her so much. This was all he was able to do for her.
"Please," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.
His resolve broke and he gave in. This one thing he would do for her. No matter what the cost or consequences. He would put his heart on the line tonight for her. He knew it would break him, but he couldn't stand to see her like this. So sad, so broken, and so utterly alone. This was all he could offer her.
He looked into those strikingly beautiful jade orbs of hers and smiled a sad, broken smile.
"Okay, Sakura. For you I will."
She smiled at him and crushed her lips to his in a needy, desperate kiss. Every kiss, every gentle caress, and all the beautiful movements they made together broke him a little more that night because he knew this was being done for all the wrong reasons. This would be the only time he could ever hold her, feel with her, and memorize every dip and curve of her body. He had truly been broken that night.
She cries for the third time that morning and it's only 6:30. She cries not for herself, but for what she may have broken. For what may be forever lost.
How could she have been so careless? How could this have happened? She thinks back to the night before.
Another deep intake of breath and this time the crying won't stop. It comes in full waves and her body won't stop shuddering. A deep, anguished sob escapes her throat and resounds throughout the apartment.
All she can do now is cry until she is so exhausted that she falls back into a restless sleep.