cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater
theeflowerchild

part I

He's married.

He's devilishly handsome, with wild, dark hair, and big, dark eyes. He's got long features, a long nose, and a long chin, and long arms, with long fingers, and a long torso that connects to long legs. He's unbelievably brilliant, and unbelievably successful, and his future is brighter than the sun, just like him. He's soft-spoken, with a deep voice, and gentle, with kind hands, and passionate, despite himself, and…

He's married.

"Oh, he's so young," Ino drawls next to you. "He has his whole life ahead of him! And to waste it getting married…"

He's nursing a beer at the end of the bar, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He's just as lean as you remember, and he always has the same bored look on his face. You can see his ring gleaming in the dim light.

"Should we go say hi?" she asks, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder. "I mean, it's been a few years since we've seen him…"

"I don't know," you whisper. He hasn't seen you yet, and you're not sure if you want him to. "Maybe we should just order first."

"Oh, come on, Sak!" she yells, but sits down at the bar anyway. She nudges your side. "Aren't you the least bit curious about that little wife of his?"

You shrug. "Not particularly—white wine, please," you order quickly in between words, "and I haven't really spoken to him since like, senior year. What am I even going to say to him? Who's to say he's going to remember us?"

Ino rolls her eyes. "Who the hell forgets pink hair?"

"You'd be surprised," you quip. The bartender places a large wine glass in front of you, while Ino readies herself with a shot glass and an open bottle. "Just leave him alone, Ino. He's obviously here by himself to drink by himself. Shockingly enough, not everyone wants to be bothered by you—"

"Well, I'll be," a hushed tone mutters behind you. It's familiar, and sends shivers up your spine. "Sakura Haruno, what brings you back in town?"

You see a pout surface on Ino's face. "Uh, hello, Uchiha, remember me?"

He smirks. "How could I forget somebody so annoying?"

She sneers. "Watch it, asshole."

You've yet to say a word. His voice is just like you remember it, surprisingly warm, and overwhelmingly rich. His eyes are dark and unreadable, just as they've always been, and you wonder how she's able to tolerate them.

He rolls his eyes. "Try me, Yamanaka."

"Hi, Sasuke." You've found your voice; it's much hoarser than you remember. "It's nice to see you."

He immediately turns from Ino and offers you a small smile. "It's nice to see you, too."

"How is everything?" you ask, not sure what kind of answer you're looking for.

"Everything is okay," he answers. He nods his head and shoves his hands deep in his pockets, just like he always did. "If you're going to be in town for a while, we should get dinner some night."

You nod your head in turn. "Yeah, we should."

He takes out his wallet and fishes through it before offering you a card with his name, an email, and a phone number on it. "Here, take this, and call me when you're free, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, of course," you respond. You don't think you actually will, but it's a nice feeling knowing that he'd take time out of his day to see you.

He quickly checks his wrist and you notice a very expensive watch that's a little too loose on his slim figure. "Well, I better get going, but it was nice running into you," he says to both of you, but he's only looking at you.

You offer him a weak wave and you know if you were standing your knees would be jelly. "Yeah, nice to see you, too."

When he walks toward the bar's exit, Ino raises an eyebrow and smirks at his retreating figure. "Just as fine as I remember."

You scoff. "You're such a pig."

She laughs. "As if you could forget a fine piece of ass like that." She nudges you with her elbow.

You simply roll your eyes and tend to your glass in front of you, brushing her off with nothing more than a wave.

You wonder if you're going to call him.

The last time you saw him was when you broke his heart.

He was nothing more than a boy then, with wide eyes and a broken smile. He didn't talk much, but when he did, he could carry a conversation as if it were light as a feather. He was smart, and sweet in his own way, and loved you like no other. He looked at you as if you were the sun, and didn't mind that you ate like a garbage disposal, or cried over every little thing. He held you like you would break, and threw you around like you were a dummy. When he made love to you, you saw stars.

It was overwhelming. You gave him a reason to wear his heart on his sleeve just to rip it off and throw it on the ground years later.

You left for Suna that night. You were excited, and scared, and relieved. Ending it was the hardest part, getting the hell out of there was the easiest thing you had ever done. He had helped you pack your car only a few nights before.

He didn't cry, surprisingly. He didn't yell, either, but you didn't expect much from him. He was never one to willingly show his feelings; anyway, at that time, you were the enemy.

His lasts words were, "I would only have held you back."

You're not sure whether to curse yourself over the last drink, or your own terrible decision to accept this boy's (he's not a man) stupid excuse for a date.

You sigh because Ino isn't picking up her phone and that boy has become enraptured with that ridiculous target on the wall. He misses, again. You wonder what's closer: that spear in comparison to the target, or the likelihood of you ending up in his bed, like he's been commenting on all night (hint: it's the spear).

"God damn it, Ino," you whisper, dialing her phone one more time. It goes straight to voicemail: dead. "Don't you ever charge your fucking phone?"

Now whom the hell can you call? You don't know anybody here anymore; you're sure as hell not going to call your Dad, and Naruto won't be down until this weekend. Where the hell is Ino again?

And then something dawns on you.

You reach into your jacket pocket and look at the stupid card that's still there for some reason. It's cream-colored, with black writing, and his name is written largely in the center. His number still looks familiar to you.

With a sigh, you dial.

"Hello?" his voice rings in your ears. He sounds hoarse, but he always does.

You don't say anything.

"Hello?" he says again. There's another pause. "… Sakura?"

You feel your breath catch in your throat. "Oh, Sasuke, right, hi," you ramble. You wonder if you sound as drunk as you feel. "What're you up to?"

There's another pause before you hear him laugh. "Uh, not much. And yourself?"

"Well, you see, Sas," you wonder if anybody still calls him that, "I'm in quite a bit of a predicament."

"A predicament?" he asks curiously. You can feel him smirking wherever the hell he is.

"Yes, a predicament," you confirm. You push a piece of fallen fringe back behind your ears—you've finally decided to grow it out. "Remember that bar I saw you at the other night?"

"I do, Sak," he replies. Is he mocking you?

"Well, I came here with some boy," you hear him sigh, "because I'm an idiot. And he sort-of drove me here, and I'm sort-of stuck, and he's sort-of drunk—"

He cuts you off. "Say no more. I'll be right over." The phone clicks before you can thank him.

You play some game on your phone until he arrives. He's just as handsome today as he was the other day, albeit a little blurrier. He's wearing his old varsity sweatshirt from high school, with "Leaf High School" emblazoned across the front in gold on forest green. "Well, thank god your alive," he says as he approaches the table. He sits down next to you and scans the bar.

That boy doesn't even bother looking over; he's already hitting on some other girl. You really do know how to pick 'em. "Thank god," you drawl, finishing up the last sip of that glass of wine you, at least, didn't have to pay for.

He rolls his eyes and smirks. "I think that's enough for tonight, don't you?"

"I do," you agree. You push the glass away from you for affect. "Thanks for coming, Sas-u-ke." You sound out his name, tasting it on your lips. You haven't said his name as many times over the past five-years as you have over the past few days.

"You're welcome, Sa-ku-ra," he mocks you again.

You frown and push his shoulder. "Hey, stop making fun of me."

"Stop getting wildly drunk with strange men," he counters, his smirk deepening.

You muster up the fiercest glare you can, which you're sure is ridiculous in your state. You wonder if your mascara is already running. "I don't get wildly drunk with strange men!" You're aware that you were loud, but it's late, and everybody is already drunk, so nobody bothers to even spare you a glance.

He laughs, it's just like you remember. "Come on, Sak, let's get you home." You know he wasn't mocking you that time.

He slithers his arm in between yours, helping you up from the table. It takes you a moment to remember you're wearing heels before you gather yourself on your feet. Once you do, you immediately let go of him to smooth out your dress.

"Um, wow," he says, catching your attention. He's looking you over, a certain look in his eye you can't quite determine. "You look great."

You feel your cheeks warm up, but they were already hot from the alcohol, so you're sure he doesn't notice. "Uh, thanks."

"So, who's the lucky guy?" he asks, scanning over the bar.

You look over to see your man hitting on some blondie with legs as far as the eye can see. She doesn't seem to be taking the bait. "Ugh, you don't even want to know." You begin walking towards the door.

"Oh, believe me, I do," he claims, catching up to you. He's still look around the bar, but you don't even dignify him with a response.

Once you're finally outside the cold air feels incredible against your warm skin. It's a beautiful night; you almost forgot how brightly the stars twinkle over Konoha. You recall many nights of sitting in the grass in your backyard with your friends with stolen beers, looking up at the sky until you fell asleep. You'd always get caught the next day, but your father never said much about the stolen alcohol. He was always too focused on the boys—or, in most cases, the boy.

"It's really beautiful, right?" he whispers next to you, looking up as well. "You must not see stars like this in the city."

"No," you explain. "You really don't… But this makes them even more beautiful when you do."

"I guess you're right," he agrees. He begins walking over towards his car. Your mind is plagued with memories of an old black suburban, equipped with raggedy leather seats and dark, tinted windows, but instead you're met with a sleek, black sports-car with a roof that you're sure detracts into the trunk.

"Wow, what a beautiful car," you say, running a hand along the metal. It feels expensive.

He laughs. "Thanks, paid for it all myself," he exclaims proudly.

You hear the car unlock, allowing yourself into the passenger seat. You see a tube of lipstick on the floor and assume it's hers. "It's great, but I d'know, I kinda miss the truck," you admit. You cross your legs because you remember you're wearing a skirt.

He laughs again and starts the car. "Yeah, sometimes, me too."

"Do you still have it?" you ask, immediately turning down the radio when The Rolling Stones blast into your ears. His voice is much better.

"No, I don't," he admits. The car quietly roars to life, it's very different from the loud scream of his truck.

"That's too bad." You look across his dashboard and it's spotless, hanging from his rearview mirror is an old set of beads that look eerily familiar. You immediately touch them, despite yourself. "These were mine."

"Yes, they were," he says. "I had them hanging in my old car for how many years, it only seemed fitting to move them right onto the next." He talks a little more than you remember, but you don't mind. He no longer fumbles with his words. People used to say he was stoic, but you knew he was just shy.

"Remember the night I hung them up there?" you reminisce with a laugh.

"I do," he says.

"It was your first football game," you start. "Remember? You won, and I said they were your good luck charm."

"You went to every single one of my games." You recognize the route he is taking, he doesn't even bother asking you for directions. He still remembers where you live. "I don't think it was the beads that were good luck."

"Really?" you question, suddenly staring at him. It's too dark to see his face, but you notice the outline of his nose, and the strength of his jaw. "Then what?"

He laughs. "You, Sakura," he says. "You were my good luck charm."

"Oh." You're too drunk to be embarrassed. "Even if you didn't win, there wasn't a game you didn't score."

He shrugs. "I guess."

"Does anybody still call you Sas?" you suddenly ask, remember the thought.

He spares you a glance and you have half a mind to tell him to put his eyes on the road. "My mother, sometimes."

"How is your mother?" you ask. You haven't seen her in years, but she loved you, at a time. You wonder if she loves her.

"She's fine," he tells you. "Still working, still annoying."

"Oh, shut up." You bat a hand at his arm. "Your mother is the kindest woman alive."

"I'm aware," he agrees. He takes another turn and you're suddenly on your street. "She still asks about you."

"What do you say?"

"She lives in her father's basement and works at McDonalds, full time," he claims. "She says they might even promote her to manager!"

You stick your tongue out at him and shove him again. "Oh, come on!"

"I tell her how successful you are," he says, suddenly earnest. He has a small smile on his face. "And how well you're doing in medical school, and how you just started your residency." You wonder how he got the information, but you don't push him.

"Really?" you ask, eyes wide. You suddenly realize he's pulled over in front of your house.

"Yes." He's out of the car before you know it. You go to reach for the door handle, but he's already opened it for you. You've come to learn that drunk-you is virtually useless.

"Uh, thanks," you say awkwardly. You step out of the car, once again very aware of your heels, and heave yourself up to a standing-position. You immediately yank down your very tight skirt that has ridden up way too far, but a thought surfaces in your mind: it isn't anything he hasn't seen.

"I'll walk you to the door," he offers, unaware of your sudden embarrassment.

"Thanks," you repeat. You slowly follow behind him, and hear your heels clicking against the pavement. You're drowned in waves of nostalgia, overcome with the picture painted before you.

This isn't the first time he's walking you to the door of your childhood home, in the past deemed a little past your bedtime. It isn't the first time you're dragging behind him, exhausted, a little drunk, and dressed to impress. It isn't the first time you see his form sauntering before you, see his hands stuffed deep into his pockets. When you stand on the porch, the light flickers to life, and you see his face. It makes your stomach turn, this feeling—like nothing ever really changes.

"This is weird," he says, suddenly breaking the silence.

You laugh, a smile surfacing on your face. "Yeah, you're right."

"I can't remember the last time I walked you to your door." He looks around your porch. "Your dad still has the same damn plant hanging from the roof."

You look behind yourself and roll your eyes. "It's fake."

"I wouldn't have guessed," he mutters sarcastically. "And he never thought we knew but—"

"We always saw him watching from the side window," you finish for him.

"But as long as we took a few steps back, we were in his blind spot for our…" He coughs. "Uh, goodbyes."

You giggle. "Thanks for everything tonight."

"It's no problem at all," he claims, rubbing the back of his neck. It's a habit he's always had when he feels self-conscious. "I did always say if you ever needed me, I'd be there."

"Ah, you are a man of your word," you retort with a small smile.

"Let's do this again some time," he says with a wink. "But maybe with you less drunk, and maybe when it's not two in the morning."

"Maybe," you agree with a wink of your own.

He kisses your cheek quickly and for a moment you consider whether or not it actually happened. "Goodnight, Sak," he whispers as he walks off the porch towards his car.

You find your hand resting comfortably against the spot his lips touched. The feeling is overwhelming, but familiar, and it's something you didn't know you missed until it happened again. You decide you will call him again, and take him up on that lunch.

He calls you.

"Sakura, hey," he says. "What are you doing for lunch?"

You're actually still in your pajamas in bed, pushing the eleven-thirty mark. You wonder if he can hear the sleep in your voice, wonder if he still knows you like the back of his hand. "Uh, nothing."

"Or breakfast, should I say?" he quips. Busted.

You laugh softly. "Do you want to get lunch?" you ask, changing the subject.

"No, I was just curious what you were doing for lunch," he deadpans. "Yes, I do. If you're not busy."

"I d'know, Sas," you sigh loudly, "I do have a date scheduled with my bed, but I could cancel…"

"There's coffee in it for you, on me," he offers.

"Well, how could I say no to that?" You finally sit up from your position in bed. Your childhood posters and furniture, just like every morning so far, overwhelm you. "Where do you want to meet?"

"I'll pick you up," he says, and then quickly adds, "You're on my way to the diner from work."

"Ooo, Ichiraku Diner?" you ask.

"Is there any other?" he counters.

"Touché." You enjoy the feeling of the cool wood floor against your feet as you stand up, stretching. "What time are you coming?"

"How's 12:30?"

"12:30 is plausible," you agree. You look at yourself in the mirror and decide a shower is for the best.

"Maybe if you don't watch TV as you get ready, 12:30 will be more than plausible," he drawls.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You begin running the shower, waiting for the water to get hot. It's an old heating system.

"Don't keep me waiting," he says, and you hear the phone click.

"I can't promise anything," you whisper to yourself as you step into the—finally—hot water.

You're only a little late.

"Wow, 12:35," he says as you step into his passenger seat. You notice that the lipstick tube is gone. "That's a record for you."

You cluck your tongue and cross your legs.

"So, what were you watching?" he asks, pulling out of your driveway.

"Nothing," you quickly respond.

He shoots you a look.

"Alright, alright, I was listening to music," you admit.

"Is that so?" he asks. "Anything good?"

"The usual," you say. Does he remember the usual?

"So it was either nineties hits, Fall Out Boy, or The Beatles," he lists. "Maybe Simon and Garfunkel, but I doubt that for getting ready."

"That's for long car rides, stupid," you retort. "And it was Fall Out Boy, okay?"

"Right, how could I be so daft?" he responds dramatically.

You haven't driven this way yet, and you begin to notice the houses that were once so familiar to you. You see Naruto's old colonial, and Ino's little ranch. You know that the largest house at the end of the street is Sasuke's. "Your mom painted," you comment, relishing in the baby blue that was once a soft yellow.

"She did," he says. "She wanted something new, a few years ago."

"Where do you live now?" you ask him. You wonder if he'll ever take you to see it. You wonder if she knows he's with you right now.

"In the apartments by the high school," he says. You remember beautiful bricks and large terraces. "We're not ready for a house now."

You flinch at the word 'we're.' Despite yourself, you ask, "what's married life like?"

"That's a broad question," he replies.

"I guess," you agree. "Answer it to the best of your ability."

"It's…" he trails off, in thought. In the back of your mind you think this should be a no-brainer for him. "Hectic, I guess."

"Hectic?" You're pretty sure hectic isn't a positive thing.

"Yeah, hectic. A little overwhelming, sometimes," he admits. "You're doing everything for two people now."

"That sounds like something a pregnant woman would say," you joke.

"Being married is a lot more work than being pregnant," he retorts. You wonder if he's really kidding. "It's nice, but different than I expected."

"How long have you been married for, again?" you ask.

"Um…" He thinks for a moment. You again think that this should be a no-brainer for him. "Six-months, I think."

"You think?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I think," he responds. He finally pulls into a parking lot that is incredibly familiar to you.

"Wow," you whisper, more to yourself, but he catches it and smirks, as he should. It hasn't changed a bit, Ichiraku, save for a new neon sign and probably a paint-job. "Can't remember the last time I've been here…"

"Neither can I," he admits. He steps out of the car and is at your side door, opening it for you before you can even catch your breath. "Karin hates diners."

He says her name for the first time.

"Is that so?" you ask as you step out of the car.

"She thinks they're trashy, or something," he says as you walk toward the entrance. It's decorated with little Christmas and Hanukah decals on the door. You can see the gleam of Christmas lights reflecting against the glass, strung delicately at the front counter.

"Call me garbage, then, diners are the best," you respond with a small smile. He holds the door open for you and you jokingly curtsey in return. He rolls his eyes, which, in his own language, is a term of endearment.

When you approach the counter, he speaks, "a booth for two, please. The one in the corner, if you have it." He remembers your preferred place to sit.

The hostess brings you over to the little booth in the corner with the window at its side. He gives you the corner seat, like you've always preferred, and sits right across from you. You feel terribly nostalgic; it's just like high school. It's scary how much things change, but it's even scarier how much they don't.

Before you can even begin starting a conversation with him, you're interrupted by another familiar voice. "Oh my gosh, Sakura Haruno?" You look up and see a very pregnant woman with chocolate brown eyes and chocolate brown hair tied in two, tight buns at the back of her head. "I don't believe it!"

You offer the warmest smile you can. "Tenten, it's so good to see you." You stand from the table and carefully offer her a hug—and you thought Sasuke's marriage was extreme. She looked like she was about to pop any day now! "You look amazing."

"Oh, don't give me that!" she waves you off as you let go. "I'm fat, and tired, and won't be standing for much longer!"

You laugh and sit back down at the table. You wonder who the lucky guy is; you never even believed she'd get over Neji, and yet here she is, swollen with another man's baby. "Oh, stop it. Congratulations."

"Thank you," she says. You feel a slight pang in your heart that she's still here, working at the diner, just like in high school, but she seems happy. "As you can see, life's been treating me pretty well."

"I can," you agree. "You look beautiful."

"Oh, stop, I'm blushing!" she waves you again. "And what brings you back in town, missy?"

"Christmas, I missed my dad, the works," you explain.

"And how is your father?" she asks. She reaches for a pad in her apron pocket and jots something down. "And your brother?"

"They're well," you explain.

"And you, Sasuke?" she finally turns to him. "I haven't seen you in a while. How's business? And the wife?"

He shrugs. "Fine," he offers. You realize he's just as quiet as you remember to those he doesn't know well, and it's warming, in a way. "And yourself?"

"Oh, everything is good!" she says. "Now, I better do my job, or something like that. Or I might just stand here all day and talk to you guys!" She writes another thing down in her pad. "It's just so great to have you back, Sakura!" she says with the warmest smile she can muster. "Do you guys know what you'd like to order?"

"Coffee, and a burger with nothing on it for me, please," he says without even bothering to look to the menu. He turns to you and smirks. "And I'm assuming coffee and blueberry blintz for you, Sak?" he asks, reiterating an order very familiar to him.

"You'd be correct," you say with a small smile and a blush you can't subdue.

"Awe, how cute!" She giggles. "Does anything ever really change?"

Sasuke laughs a little. "Seems like it really doesn't, does it?"

She giggles again and begins making a turn to leave. "I'll be back with your coffee soon!" She slowly waddles away towards the kitchen.

You can't help but smile. "She seems really happy," you say.

"Yeah," he agrees. "After Neji died, she took it really hard."

"We all did," you remark softly.

He nods his head. "It didn't seem like she'd ever bounce back, ever be okay… but when Lee came back from college a few years ago, they became very close, and…" he trails off.

"Lee!?" you say, shocked. You feel like your jaw hit the table! "She got with Lee? That's Lee's spawn in her stomach? Oh my god."

He laughs and you notice the crow's feet near his eyes. "That would be correct."

"Oh my god!" you repeat, stunned. "I don't believe it!"

"Believe it," he says.

You feel yourself soften before him. "How's the baby taking it?"

"He's not really a baby anymore," Sasuke explains with a small smile. You remember the beautiful baby Tenten had with Neji, the baby that landed her in this diner for the rest of her life. She loves that baby more than anything in the world, more than she loves Neji—and she loves Neji a whole lot. That was more than seven years ago, though, so that baby was certainly not a baby anymore. "He just started second grade."

"Oh my god!" you can't help but say again. "I don't even believe you! Time really flies…"

"It really does," he agrees. "He's taking it just fine. He loves Lee—but what little kid wouldn't?"

You laugh. "I guess that's true. He's always been a big ball of energy."

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Tell me about it."

"Here's your coffee!" Tenten suddenly piped in, setting down two mugs in front of you. "Your food will be out soon. I sent out an order of fries on the house for my two favorite customers!"

You offer her a warm smile. "Thanks, Tenten."

"Oh, it's absolutely no problem!" she insists. "You can repay me by grabbing some dinner with me before you head back to Suna!" she adds with a wink.

"Definitely," you agree with a smile. "I would love that."

She leaves with another smile, off to serve more customers. You don't remember Ichiraku's ever being this busy, but it's nice. This was the business that had nourished you most of your high school, that held some very precious moments to you: this was where your parents told you that you were getting a baby brother, where you had your first lunch with Naruto in second grade, where you had your first date with Sasuke.

This is where Sasuke told you he loved you.

"You alright in there, Sak?" he interrupts your thoughts, waving a hand in front of your face.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," you say. "I was just thinking."

"About what?" he asks, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. You look at his coffee and see that he's left it as is: black. Even his coffee order hasn't change.

You think for a moment before remembering the party Ino had mentioned to you. She had said to invite Sasuke, but you weren't totally sure. You cluck your tongue. "What are you doing Saturday night?"

"Is that Christmas Eve?" he asks.

"No, the day before," you tell him. "Ino is having some silly Christmas party."

"Yeah, because Ino's parties always ended well in High School," he quips.

You laugh. "I'm not even sure I want to think about it."

"Remember her Halloween party in ninth grade?" he asks you, a small smile playing on his lips.

"How can I forget my first encounter with alcohol?" you say, rolling your eyes. "That was a long night."

"All I remember is holding your hair while you threw up in her backyard." He laughs himself, and takes a long sip of his coffee. "When I walked you home, your dad was waiting at the door, laughing his ass off."

"Now, that, I don't remember, but I do remember being grounded for two weeks," you say.

He shrugs. "One of many punishments from Kakashi Hatake."

"Hey, they weren't always deserved!" you counter with a small pout.

He laughs again, and it jingles in your ears like bells. "He was only ever doing what he thought was best."

Your pout quickly turns into a small smile. "Yeah, I know."

His eyes linger on your smile for a moment only for him to quickly change the subject. "Anyway, what about Ino's Christmas party?"

"Oh, right," you say, remembering the offer. "Well, if you're not busy, you're totally welcome to come. There will be booze and possibly some truth or dare." He rolls his eyes. You take a deep breath and quickly add, "and you can bring your wife if you want."

"I'm sure she wouldn't want to go, she doesn't really know my friends, to be honest," he tells you and it seems like a confession more than anything. "She might be working, anyway, but I would love to come."

You can't help the smile that pulls at your lips. "I'm glad."

"How about I drop my car off near you and we can walk down to Ino's together?" he asks.

For a moment you want to ask him why he has to drive all the way from his house, but then you realize he doesn't live there anymore. He's not the boy down the street anymore. Your face falls slightly, but you let your smile persist. "Sure, that sounds great."

"Here's your lunch, guys!" Tenten interrupts once more, placing the dishes in front of you. "Enjoy!" And she's off again, tending to the full house.

"Ugh, oh my God," you whine, looking at the delectable breakfast placed in front of you. "Do you see this, Sasuke? Do you see this masterpiece?" you ask, pointing at the crepes drenched in mascarpone cheese and berries. "How could you not enjoy sweets?"

He laughs. "Things really do never change."

There is one ultimate truth about Sasuke Uchiha, and that is that he is absolutely beautiful.

Sure, the pleasantness of his personality is debatable. He's smug, arrogant, and, occasionally, downright rude—but he's also a good friend, with a passionate streak, and a fierce lover. He never forgets anything, and he holds grudges like white on rice. He's stubborn, and relentless in arguments, but he's kind to his friends, and knows when to joke and when to listen.

That being said, his incredible looks are undeniable. He's a spectacle, even; a man this beautiful is almost unthinkable. With narrow, dark eyes, and messy, dark hair, he is a wild mystery. His high cheekbones and heart-shaped face are staples of beauty, while the long torso, long nose, long legs, and long arms all the way down to long fingers that should be awkward-looking are instead charming, not unlike the curve of his smirk, or the swell of his biceps. He has grown from a cute boy into a devilishly handsome man, and you can't help but notice this as he walks up to your front porch in a wine-colored button down and fitted black slacks, large hands buried deep in his pockets.

He's stunning, and you suddenly feel self-conscious in your pretty red dress and shiny black stilettos. Like you're not enough.

When he knocks, you quickly grab your coat from the closet and throw the door open, mustering a pretty smile on your face. "Hey, Sasuke."

"Wow," he says, and smirks. "You look very nice, Sakura."

A compliment from him can easily make a girl feel beautiful. You sometimes wonder what he ever saw in you, but then you remember that Sasuke is not shallow. He does not care what you look like; he's loved you at your worst, and enjoyed you at your best. You wonder if his wife is beautiful. "You don't look half bad yourself," you respond.

He laughs. "What a compliment." He runs his gaze over you, from head to toe—you can almost feel it, like he's softly caressing your body. It gives you a warm feeling. "You left your hair natural."

"What?" you say. You know you're gaping like a fish. He smirks again. "Oh, yeah, right."

"It's nice," he says again. "Not that it's not nice every day, but I like it curly."

"Thanks, Sasuke." You close the door behind you. "Shall we?"

He steps ahead of you and takes a slow pace toward Ino's. You're short, and he always keeps it in mind, walking at your pace. Many people think Sasuke is a jerk, but little things like this are what have always led you to believe he's a gentleman, and a kind soul.

"Ready for Christmas Eve?" he asks you, staring at the sky. It looks like it's going to snow.

You shrug. "I guess. Are you doing anything special?"

"Dinner with Karin's family, tomorrow," he says. "And then dinner at my parent's on Christmas day."

"Maybe I'll see you on Christmas, then," you tell him with a small smile. "Your mom knows we usually have nowhere to go—"

"So she obviously invited you," he finishes. "Just like every year."

"It's been a while since I've partaken in a full-fledge Uchiha Christmas," you comment, possibly more to yourself.

"You haven't missed much," he reminds you. "Except baby Hana has gotten bigger."

"I'm sure she's only become more beautiful, too," you say, remembering his older brother's gorgeous daughter—and gorgeous wife. "She should be around eight or nine now, right?"

"She'll turn nine in January," he says. "But her personality makes it seem like she's pushing twenty."

You can't help but laugh. "Like father, like daughter, huh?"

He smiles. "I guess, but she sure as hell gives her father a run for his money."

"I bet. And everybody knows Itachi is a closet-softie." You approach Ino's house and hear the low roar of music.

"It seems the party has started," he comments as you both make your way up the driveway. "Should I be prepared for a killer hangover?"

"Merry Christmas," you whisper sarcastically with a wink. He rolls his eyes. "You should be more prepared to see everybody we ever went to high school with."

"Oh, right." He suddenly seems incredibly awkward. "Everyone will be there, won't they?"

"Hey, don't be nervous!" you say with a soft smile. "At least you still live here. This is my first time back in…" You think for a moment. "Almost four years," you whisper. "Wow."

"I think it's my turn to reassure you," he says with a small smile. "Come on, we'll do this together, okay?"

You take a deep breath and nod your head. "Alright, let's get a move on, Uchiha!"

He rolls his eyes and, with his own deep breath, knocks heavily on the door. There is a moment's wait before it swings open. The loud music is slightly overbearing and a very drunk (already) Ino was not what you expected. "Take a look at the happy couple!" she screams, grabbing onto your wrist and thrusting you into the room.

Sasuke follows behind you. "Uh, Ino, I think you may have had enough to drink. Sakura and I haven't been together for years," he reminds her. You can't help but notice the flush forming on his cheeks.

"But you should be—"

"Ino, Merry Christmas!" you yell right over her, bringing her into a hug. You feel the fire burning in your cheeks. "What a great party you got going!"

"Oh, right, yeah, party, wooh!" she yells robotically, pumping her fist in the air. "Thanks for coming, guys! Food is in the kitchen, alcohol is everywhere, have fun!" she explains, and then runs off back into the crowd.

Sasuke shoots you a look accompanied by his infamous smirk. "Same old Ino."

"She never really changes," you say. "But I think that's a good thing." You notice the cooler stationed at the door and quickly grab two beers out of it, passing one to Sasuke. "Here's to a very Merry Christmas."

He nods his head. "Thanks." He grabs the bottle opener off his car keys and cracks his open, taking yours right out of your hand and opening it, too. He passes it back to you and quickly clanks his against yours, muttering a quick cheers before taking a long swig.

"In a rush?" you ask.

He raises his eyebrows, a smirk ever-present on his face. "Not particularly."

"Sakura, Sakura!" you hear a sudden voice scream and, before you know it, you're scooped up into the air by strong arms.

"Naruto!" you shout, wrapping your own around him. You bury your face in blonde hair and grin.

"I missed you so, so much!" he yells, twirling you around. He sets you down in front of him, but doesn't seem ready to let go of your shoulders just yet. "You're just as beautiful as I remember!"

"I missed you too, cutie!" You plant a wet one on his lips, nothing more than friendly.

He grins wildly. He doesn't seem too drunk yet. "I can't believe you're here! I didn't think you were coming!"

"And why on earth wouldn't I come home for Christmas?" you ask with a wink.

He rolls his big blue eyes. "I don't know, why don't you ask you from the past three winters?"

You pout. "Awe, come on, babe, don't be like that!" You push his shoulder and wink. "Now, who's hair do I have to pull to get a dance around here?" you question him, loud music blaring in your ears as you clean off your first drunk.

Naruto immediately reaches into the cooler and grabs you another beer, easily cracking it open using the banister next to him. He hands it to you with a wink and grabs your hand. "Come on, Sakura, all you had to do was ask!"

With that, he yanks you into the living room that has become a makeshift dance floor. You offer Sasuke a smile and decide that he's right, and you have nothing to worry about. These people are your family, and you love them, whether or not it's been a while.

Everyone welcomes you with open arms throughout the night. Hinata is just as beautiful as you remember, but not quite as shy—no thanks to her developing relationship with Naruto. She gives you the warmest hug imaginable. Temari tells you about her engagement to the—still—lazy Shikamaru, who drapes his own arms around you like it's the most work he's done in years. Gaara, thankfully, has calmed down with time, and offers you a small smile and a friendly kiss on your cheek, while Kankuro is as flirty and wild as you remember, all wiggling-eyebrows and wandering hands. Tenten even stops in for a moment to say hello with her sparkling husband who claims that "the light of spring is even brighter within you than he can remember," giving you a body-crushing hug.

You feel overwhelmingly warm inside, and it's not because of the countless drinks you've consumed.

Then there's Kiba.

"Now, when did Kiba get so cute?" you say to Sasuke, having found your way from the dance floor right back to him. You're nursing your third or fifth or ninth beer, not including two or three shots from some one-on-one time with Ino.

Sasuke raises an eyebrow at you and scoffs. "Excuse me?"

"You don't know Kiba?" you question, innocently, unaware.

"I know Kiba," he responds with a roll of the eyes. "He's just not cute."

"Now, I am drunk," you admit, "but I clearly remember Inuzuka in High School as like, a two or a three, and he's clearly a nine now," you explain, "and drunk vision only gives guys a notch or two on the scale."

"Is that so?" he says.

"Yes. So Kiba is probably like, a seven or eight," you say, "but that's pretty high. So, I repeat my question: when did Kiba get so cute?"

Sasuke squints his eyes at the boy, and then shakes his head. "I don't see it."

You feign shock, placing a hand on your chest. "Are you blind, Uchiha?"

"Not yet," he says. He's certainly not as drunk as you, but he's getting there. His speech has slowed significantly, and he's swaying slightly; you think if you pushed him, he'd tip over like a tower. "Who would want a guy with tattoos all over his face? I'm pretty sure he has fleas and, anyway, you could definitely do better."

"You think so?" you say, finishing off what you think may have to be your last drink.

"Definitely," he reassures you. "If he's a nine, you're a fifteen."

For a moment you begin to think Sasuke is flirting with you, but you push the thought way in the back of your mind. "Is that so?" you finally say.

He nods his head. "Oh, it's so."

"Well, then, that must make you, like, a five-billion," you slur. It's a simple compliment and something you believe to be true.

He gives you a quick up down before settling on your eyes and, if you didn't know any better, you'd really think he was hitting on you. "Don't sell yourself short, Sakura. Have you looked in a mirror lately?" he asks.

"On occasion," you mock.

"Time did you well," he mutters, and it seems more to himself, but you hear him loud and clear. "I'm gonna go grab another drink. Want something?"

"Water," you say, but then quickly change to, "Wine cooler."

He laughs. "You sure?"

"Oh, I'm positive," you say with a violent nod of the head.

When he comes back, he seems a little wobblier than before. You realize he must've taken a few shots in the kitchen, and he seems to be already halfway done with his next beer. He hands you your already opened wine cooler with a smirk. "Thanks," you say.

"No problem," he slurs.

"You hold your alcohol way better than I remember," you comment with a raised eyebrow.

"A few more shots and you'll eat your words," he contests with a wink.

And, just as he said, around three AM, you do eat your words as you both stumble back to your house. "So, there's no way you're getting home tonight."

"I guess not," he agrees.

"Come on," you say, making your way up the driveway. "You can sleep in my room." Ten drinks prior, you would know that the offer was ridiculous, and incredibly inappropriate. It doesn't occur to you that Sasuke has a wife, and a home.

It doesn't occur to him, either, when he says yes. He follows you up the stairs and crawls into bed next to you. He doesn't touch you, but you can feel his warmth, and taste his breath when he whispers goodnight against your ear.

You force yourself to believe that it also doesn't occur to him that his parents are only a few doors down with a perfectly viable bedroom when he finally falls asleep beside you, his face incredibly close to yours. You remind yourself that he must fall asleep next to her every night like this, too.

You remember the day you received the invitation to his wedding. You were surprised, to say the least; you didn't even know he had been dating, let alone well on his way to a wife. You had never heard of the girl before.

"He met her in school," Ino told you. "I haven't met her yet, either, but I heard she's nice enough. I don't think Sasuke would date some asshole, anyway."

You agreed with her and didn't question any further. You were surprised he even invited you. You hadn't seen him in years, and you'd barely spoken to him save for a few "happy birthdays and "how are you-s" here and there. It was out of courtesy, I guess, and when you thought about it, he was one of your oldest friends.

You really did intend on going to the wedding, too, but as fate would have had it, you had to attend a lecture with your boss that was necessary for your residency. He understood, and you sent him a card with some money in it and best wishes, of course. You meant it, too; you always wanted Sasuke to be happy.

You never really expected to see him again after that. You assumed he would move on with his life, get a house somewhere, and begin starting his family. It was what he always wanted. As stoic as he seemed, you knew he was dying to be a daddy, and to have a wife, and a little house, and a stable job. You were thoroughly surprised to see him still in Konoha, consumed with his father's business, successful as ever.

For a moment, you thought maybe Sasuke's goals had changed, and that he wasn't looking for a family just yet. He was still incredibly young, and he had all the time in the world, but after spending time with him you realized he hadn't changed a bit.

The only thing that had changed was that he had a wife. The only thing standing in the way of his family now was time, and himself.

And today is the day you will meet her.

"Oh, my, Sakura, dear, you're even more beautiful than I remember!" Mikoto says, holding your face in her hands. So many people have been saying this; you really begin to question what time has done for you. "It's so wonderful to have you back, dear!" She kisses both your cheeks and wraps you in a hug. She turns to your father and hugs him, too. "And Kakashi, just as handsome as ever!"

Fugaku cups your shoulder with his hand. "Sakura, dear, you look well. You'll have to tell me about how you residency is going over dinner, yes?"

You nod your head. "Of course."

After Fugaku, you're pulled into a big, warm hug by one of your favorite people in the world. You can't help the grin that comes to life on your face. "Itachi."

"Hey, squirt, long time no see," he says with a smile of his own as he pulls away. "Thanks for finally gracing us with your presence."

"I missed you a lot," you respond, ignoring his sarcasm. "A lot, a lot."

"Hey, I missed you too." He ruffles the top of your head.

"It's great to see you, Sakura," his wife, Konan, agrees with a smile of her own. "I'm sure Hana will light up when she—"

"Auntie Sakura!" you hear a little voice yell, and suddenly something is hanging onto your waist.

"Speak of the devil," Itachi mutters with a roll of his eyes.

"Hana, my God, you've gotten so big!" you say, and she has. She is almost to your chest, and the last time you saw her, you could lift her. "And so beautiful, too!" Her hair is just as dark and long as her fathers now, while her eyes just as hooded and blue as her mother's. Leave it to the two most beautiful people in the world to create the perfect baby.

"I missed you so, so, so, so, so, so, so much, Auntie Sakura!" she yells, tearing up. She's on the verge of crying.

"Awe, don't cry!" you say, fighting back your own tears. You're too empathetic for your own good. "I missed you, too!"

Tears begin spilling down her cheeks. "Where have you been? There's no one like you around here!"

"Don't say that!" you tell her, ruffling her hair and holding her tight to you. "You know everyone around here loves you so much!"

"I know, I know!" she says, sniffling against you. You hug her even tighter. "But I missed you so much!"

"I know, I missed you too," you say again with a small smile.

"What a show," a voice interrupts you, and you know it immediately.

You turn and offer Sasuke a small smile through the tears. "Hey, Sasuke."

He nods his head. "She hasn't stopped talking about you all day."

"You bet!" Hana agrees, hugging tighter. "I haven't seen my Auntie Sak in three years! Three years, Sasuke!"

"I'm sorry," you say, brushing her hair with your fingers. "I'll be around more from now on, though. I promise, okay?" you reassure her, kissing the top of her head.

"You better!" She nods her head into your chest. "You missed so much!"

"Well, I won't miss anymore, I promise," you explain. "And I'll even give you my phone number, so whenever you want to call me, you can."

She looks up at you with big, wet eyes, and a grin. "You promise?"

"I promise." She finally lets go of her vice-like grip on you, allowing you to wipe away the traitorous tears that leaked. With a sigh, you finally give your undivided attention to Sasuke. "Merry Christmas."

He takes a step closer and gives you a tight hug. He quickly whispers in your ear, for no one to notice, "sorry about the other night."

You remember waking up to an empty, obviously slept-in spot next to you. When you looked out the window, his car was gone.

"It's okay, I understand," you quickly whisper, pulling away.

Mikoto frowns. "Now, this isn't the reunion I pictured!" she yells.

"Mom, we've already seen each other," Sasuke says with a smirk.

"What?" she cries, pouting. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I deliberately kept it a secret from you to make your life harder," he responds, sticking out his tongue.

"You're such a pain, Sas," she says, waving him off. "Not like Sakura." She pulls you into a hug. "I'm sure she would've told me if she saw you."

"Of course, Mikoto," you agree and hug her back just as tightly. "I'm sorry your son is such a loser."

"Me too, Sakura," she says with a laugh.

In all the commotion of the reunion, and the laughter, you missed her standing behind Sasuke. Mikoto put her in your line of vision with her hug.

Your heart sinks.

She is pretty, for sure. Her hair is the color wine, pin-straight on one side, wild on the other. Her eyes are as dark as night, and she has glasses stationed on the bridge of her nose with lenses that push up against dark, dark lashes. She is tall, and lean, like Sasuke, with a long nose, and thin lips. She is wearing a beautiful black dress, and doesn't even need heels to stand proudly next to her husband.

She is everything you are not, with an air of aristocracy and sophistication surrounding her fabulous posture, and this is the first thing you notice.

You are a washed out version of this woman.

"Hello, Sakura," she says, stepping forward. Mikoto lets go of you. Her smile is charming, and small, not like your toothy grin. "It's a pleasure to meet you. You're just as wonderful as everybody said."

"Karin, Hi," you respond, and stick out your hand. She takes it and her hands are large and soft, not like yours that are small and calloused, worked to the bone. You wonder what she does for a living. "It's so nice to meet you, finally."

She holds your gaze for a moment and drops your hand. It's incredibly silent in the room; a pin could drop and it would sound like a roar of thunder.

"Well, Merry Christmas," you say, finally breaking the silence. You can feel Sasuke's eyes boring into you, but you don't dare make contact.

"Of course, Merry Christmas," she responds. Her voice is low, and steady, like the soft hum of a brass instrument. It makes yours seem like nails on a chalkboard.

"Well, uh, everyone!" Mikoto shouts, breaking the silence. Karin finally looks away from you. "Into the living room for snacks!"

My father whispers to me, "she isn't even a quarter as beautiful as you," but you don't believe him.

Sasuke doesn't say much to you through dinner, but he doesn't say much to her, either. You're overwhelmed with Hana's funny stories, and Fugaku's questions, and how everyone is so proud of you. You find out Itachi and Konan are expecting their second child, and that Karin is a secretary for the Uchiha Corporation.

After dinner, Itachi pulls you away for a moment to ask how you're doing. "Fine," you tell him, because you don't think there's any reason to be feeling any other way.

He raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" he asks, and he's genuinely curious, like he always is. Itachi has always cared for you, always been something like an older brother. You hold him very dearly to you, and he's one of the only people you've called regularly since leaving Konoha, despite your ending of the relationship with his brother.

"I don't know," you admit. "I'm overwhelmed, I guess."

"I could see why." He puts a hand on your shoulder, rubbing his thumb carefully against your skin. "It must be hard meeting her."

"She's beautiful," you say.

"Not as beautiful as you," he counters.

You scoff. "You know that's not true."

"She's nice, Sakura," he admits. "And smart, but… she has no fire."

You shoot him a look. "Sasuke thinks she does."

"Don't tell anyone I said this, but I think Sasuke rushed into things," he tells you. "I don't think Sasuke knows what he wants, or what he thinks."

"I think," you start, and then cluck your tongue. "I think that Sasuke is married."

"This is true," he says.

"And I also think we should stop talking about this," you say.

He purses his lip for a moment, and then says, "I'm sorry, Sakura."

You throw your arm around him and give him a quick squeeze. "Me too, Itachi."

Mikoto hands you a glass with wine in it. "Drink up, sweetie," she tells you with a wink. Sasuke is with his wife in the corner, nursing his own glass. She seems like she's telling him a story, waving her hands gracefully in the air. You wonder if her eyes hold nothing because they're dark, and you just can't see, or because they're dead.

Sasuke meets your eyes for a moment and, suddenly, his dull gaze pierces you just as quickly as it leaves.

"He still loves you," Itachi says. "Can't you tell?"

"He's married," you say again. "He's married."

"He hasn't stopped talking about you since you left for Suna," Itachi explains. "That was seven years ago."

"And then he met Karin," you say.

"Listen, you don't have to believe me," he responds, his voice incredibly soft, delicate, "but he doesn't look at his wife the way he used to look at you."

You give Itachi a small smile. "It's over. He moved on. I knew this would happen when I ended it with him years ago."

"Did you?" he asks. "Or did you expect him to wait for you?"

"I don't know," you admit.

"Because I think he has."

Later that night, when Karin is talking to Sasuke's father, he takes you up to his childhood bedroom. It looks like nothing has changed.

The walls are a bright blue that his mother had chosen, covered in posters of Kurt Cobain and John Lennon. His sheets are black, and his furniture is black, and his black book shelf is stacked with books that you remembering fishing through over the years. He still has a photo of you and him sitting at his desk from back when you were his.

"Wow," you say. You feel like you've been saying that a lot lately. "This is definitely the weirdest I've felt, yet."

"I haven't been up here in a while," he admits. "I don't really come over often."

"But you're so close!" you say.

"Yeah, but, Karin doesn't really like to come here," he says. His eyes look empty; you know how important his family is to him.

"I'm sorry," you tell him.

"It's fine," he says.

You sit on his mattress and you're sure it's the same one from many years ago, the one that held so many memories. The days of laughing, and telling jokes, the nights of telling secrets, and, eventually, making love; you lost your virginity on this mattress. You run your hand against it slowly, and, despite yourself, smile. "Lots of memories in this room."

He nods his head and slowly makes his way towards you. He pauses for a moment, with a furrowed brown, then decides to sit next to you. "Yeah," he agrees. "There are."

You recall many sleepovers from a young age, hanging out with Naruto in here until way too late, and watching scary movies even though you hated them. You remember hanging out with Itachi on the floor, and doing homework with Sasuke on his windowsill, feet hanging against the roof. You feel that warm sensation in your chest again, one that's been resurfacing since you got home. "I love this room," you say.

"Me too," he agrees.

You feel him staring at you and debate turning toward him. His gaze is intense, and, against your better judgment, you turn.

He searches your eyes for a moment, lips parted. This gaze isn't unfamiliar to you. In fact, it's one specific for you—a warm gaze, a fiery one, a soft one. One meant for the person you love.

One he shouldn't be looking at you with.

"Sakura, I…" he says, trailing off. He stares at you for a moment longer and does the unthinkable.

He kisses you.

You don't respond. You don't do anything. You're not even sure what's happening. He pushes against you harder, lips parted, and waits for a moment longer before pulling away. He searches your eyes again, and then stairs at your lips, before his eyes widen.

"Oh my—oh my god," he suddenly says, standing. "Oh my god, Sakura, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

For a moment you think, why is he apologizing to me? He doesn't owe me anything. And then it occurs to you:

Sasuke just cheated on his wife, and he did it with you.

This is hella fucking long, but I wanted to write something on an "unknown" disenfranchised group and decided on the mistress/the cheater.

I really hope you enjoyed it. PLEASE REVIEW, FAVE, AND FOLLOW THE STORY! LEAVE COMMENTS, TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK, ETC.

I get back to school on the 18th, but this should be updated before then. Have an absolutely amazing holiday everyone!

Peace.