Peppermint Collective
Chapter 1: Insufficient Discourse
Candid:
Lee's praise was simply too flamboyant and flowery. It was practically fragrant; and for that reason and that reason only, Sasuke felt himself wrinkle his nose in distaste.
Extrapolate:
Naruto froze in disbelief from his place in his cot. The campfire had provided him with just enough light to notice Sasuke waver, then steadily drape a second blanket over Sakura's sleeping form while she dozed during his night-watch.
Conjecture:
Sakura busied herself with Sasuke's bandages, completely unaware of both the sly smile Naruto had working its way across his face and the glower Sasuke shot in rebuke from his place on the hospital bed.
Euphemism:
She ran her hands down the fabric of her dress a second time; outfitted with no less than four different disguises, this mission had certainly rung among their most elaborate. Holding her breath as she stepped out of the bathroom, Sakura watched Sasuke's head turn to freeze on her figure, eyes lingering somewhere on her outstretched legs before turning abruptly at the sound of Naruto's voice from the stairway.
"Sakura-chan! Wow—you look great!"
Flustered, Sakura smiled and turned to look somewhere to her left, failing to register the pink colouring Sasuke's ears or his near-silent hum in agreement.
Didactic:
Sasuke was hardly a drinker but even then, the buzz of alcohol had not been enough to loosen his tongue.
"You really should bring her here sometime." Sasuke faltered, and Kakashi grinned. Sharingan or not, he would always be skilled enough to read between the lines.
Incoherent:
Her memories of the night before were faint—a wash of thrumming music and coloured lights—but the extra crook in Kiba's smile and her team's reserve the day after sent her pleading at the foot of Tsunade's desk: She really needed to call Ino.
Insinuate:
Sakura wasn't sure what to make of the arm Kiba had draped across her shoulders, the casual invitation he'd offered for lunch, or the expression Sasuke had made when she'd mentioned either to her teammates over tea the next day.
Rhetoric:
She'd only just exited the ER, had imprints the colour of bruised peaches under her eyes, and reeked of blood. Regardless, he'd let her collapse against his chest, held her with both arms, and waited with her—whispering words she only half-remembers—until she'd found it in herself to walk home. He promised to hold her steady. It seemed to be all she needed to hear.
Lucid:
He hadn't intended to see it. He hadn't even realized Sakura was off work that evening. But when Sasuke had chanced upon the two outside her apartment—Kiba's hands on her waist and her arms in his hair—he'd felt with an acute dread like he'd stumbled in on his own personal nightmare, once again.
A/N: Poor Sasuke. To be continued? This will be a drabble collection comprised of mostly unrelated pieces. While there will be updates, this chapter could just as easily stand as a one-shot.
I can't honestly say I'm satisfied with the last line of this thing. If you have any pointers or constructive criticism, please comment- the box is right there! (See if you can guess where the prompts are from! Well known word-list, I can tell you that much...)
All the best,
papernoted