Summary: There were a lot of things that Sasuke didn't know, but he realized that the love that people claimed to feel was fake- nothing but a hollow shell. Love should be a circle, with no beginning and no end. No couples
Warnings: Um… Bad language, maybe. No couples. This is kind of a drabble, actually, but not really.
A/N: I've just finished- literally, just finished (mind you, I wrote this story months ago)- Libba Bray's The Sweet Far Thing, and I'm pissed off. I hate sad endings. No, I actually despise sad endings. Always. Now my heart is throbbing painfully, my eyes are burning (not to mention red and puffy), and my make up is a mess (not that it matters at 3:20 in the morning).
Circles of Love
Chapter One
Author: Alley-Oop
Sasuke scoffed in disgust at the romance novel that was lying abandoned on his coffee table. Of course, the appalling piece of literature was not his own possession, but Sakura's. She had left it here when she had stopped by earlier for a reason that Sasuke now could not recall. However, he ignoring the hideously girly book with the offending cover that showed a well built, half-naked man embracing a fair-skinned, lovely maiden.
There was no way that he could possibly ever understand why women read that garbage. They were all the same, in the end: the distressed maiden is saved by her hero and true love, and the journey is ended as everyone lives happily ever after. Honestly. They were the most God-awful plots Sasuke had ever read, nothing but sex and drama, which he had plenty of in his own life. Well, the drama part, anyway.
Yet, something about them was… almost maddening, in more than one way. In a sense, Sasuke would admit to himself and only to himself, they were fascinating and erotic, but, at the same time, they were tasteless and left nothing but things to be desired from a life he was otherwise content with.
"Oh, fuck it," Sasuke sighed to himself as he picked up the novel. It's not like he would actually read the thing. He would just… flip through it- skim it, really. Just to get a feel for the true value- or lack thereof- of the trash in his hands, he flipped the book over to read the back cover. It read:
SKIN DEEP
Chantel O'Hurley has parlayed talent, breathtaking beauty-
and indomitable will- into stardom. But though she
needs Quinn Doran's protection now, the sexy, cynical P.I.
utterly infuriates her…threatening to melt her icy façade and ignite her heart.
Sasuke momentarily wondered how anybody could find a plot like that intriguing in the least, but he still found himself opening the front cover and beginning to scan the text with a mixture of wariness and eagerness. Somewhere deep down, the brunette was hoping that this one story would be different, that this one story might just get it right…
And in all of an hour and a half, he had had more than enough to figure out that his hopes would be dashed by the end. He quickly snapped the paperback (because hardback historical romances do not exist) book shut and tossed it back onto the glass surface of his coffee table with anger, annoyance, and disappointment radiating from him in lethal waves. Sasuke vowed to leave it there until Sakura came looking for it.
Yet, the novel had gotten those gears in his head twisting. Why did those vulgar, common books make him so infuriated? Why couldn't he just go with the silly, ignorant idea that love was as simple as the novels made it seem and just be on with his day? Maybe it was because it was somewhat like false advertising. Love that was developed within a week or so no longer existed. At least, not that kind that those wretched books described. Sasuke knew that real love was hard to come by, and it made him angry that the damned novels made it sound so… so… Sasuke didn't even know. They just made it sound so ordinary and insignificant.
Sasuke laid down on his couch, looking up at his ceiling, anger still boiling inside of him for no reason over the ridiculous paperback. It wasn't the end of the world. It was, in fact, far from it, but it still made Sasuke's cheeks flush the slightest tinge of pink from fury.
A yawn overtook Sasuke as a thought suddenly came to him so swiftly that he very nearly lost his breath.
Love is a circle, he thought. You can't tell where it begins or where it ends, and it doesn't matter. Yep, that was it. That was love. A circle. A never ending cycle that never faded or gave way. And even if the horrid novel didn't quite get that right, it at least scratched the surface of the true depth of real love, and that, for whatever reason, soothed Sasuke's anger enough that he could forget all about the books and how abrupt and meaningless they made the word "love" seem, and just give in to the sleep that began to bleed through his body.
A/N: Yes, yes, it's not the greatest, I know, but I still liked it. There was no real plot or anything, but I forewarned you that it would be a bit of a drabble, did I not?
Oh, and the back cover of that book, Skin Deep, it's a real book. My mom owns it. I've never read it, but it was lying on my computer desk, and so I though to myself, "Self, this is convenient." So I just used it in here.
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