Edit: Re-did the tense. I had previously changed halfway through, from present to past.
Added one, maybe two words.
She twirls the gun in her hand, having just had her go, before she places it on the table with a muted thud. Giving it a gentle push, it slides across the table, spinning around, so the handle is presented to him.
"Your go," she says in that melodic voice of hers, folding her arms across her chest.
Flashing a cocky smirk in her direction, he takes the gun in his hands, and spins it once, the familiar grip bringing memories flooding back.
Gripping it tight, he sets against his forehead, confident that he'll survive.
Tilting his head, raven locks swinging, he looks at her with half lidded eyes, taking in her shadowed figure.
In the wane light of the half moon, he finds the pastel pink hair she was known for, and then the hard, glittering green eyes. Her skin is still pale, and he wonders briefly if there are still freckles across her nose.
"Why do you hesitate, Sasuke-kun?" She sneers, the once loving suffix filled with mocking anger.
His smirk falters for a moment, and he blinks, "Worried about me?" He taunts.
Her jaw tightens, and he sees the fire ignite in her eyes, sending a thrill rippling down his spine.
She leans forward, "Not in the slightest you bastard." The words are snarled out through clenched teeth, and he remembers why he was drawn to her in the first place. That unquenchable fire blazing in her eyes, the way her jaw would work when he teased her, and that lovely blush rising to her cheeks when she was embarrassed.
Still smirking at her, he pulled the trigger of the gun against his head-
-and the hammer slams home with a deafening echo that resonated around the small room.
Thud-
The room falls silent.
-thud...
He hears her shocked gasp when he pulls the trigger, and for a split second, his smug smirk widens. She was worried about him.
...thud-
She never was good at lying to him.
-thud...
Blood drips off a pale hand, to pool on the ground next to its owner.
...thud-
Pulling the gun away from his head, he sets it on the table. "Blank," he comments nonchalantly. "Only two more slots left..." He taunts, pushing the gun over the table, so it came to a rest in front of her.
She unclenches her hands under the table, her palms bleeding from how hard she had pressed her nails into them.
He watches, through unfathomable charcoal eyes, as she swallows, reaching up hesitantly to grip the guns handle in her hand. He kept watching, arms crossed over his chest, the back of his chair leaning against the wall, two of its legs in the air.
She swallows again, raising the gun with steady hands to her temple.
His breath catches in his throat with a barely noticeable hitch. He never expected her to go through with it. That was never his intention.
She closes her eyes, hiding her emerald eyes from him, and he sees her jaw quiver minutely, betraying her fear to him.
They wait, moonlight filtering through the only window in the room, and he sees her jaw clench and unclench reflexively as she lifts the gun higher by a millimetre.
He narrows his eyes when he sees her finger tighten on the trigger.
She takes a deep breath, chest heaving, and he sees a bead of sweat run down the side of her face. Her finger tightens even more, and he leans forward, eyes narrowed to slits.
Her hand moves, tightening-
-and then she throws the gun onto the table with a quick exhale of air.
The gun spins on the metal tabletop and came to a rest in front of him. Picking it up, he slips it back into the waistband of his pants. "I guess that means I win... Sakura-chan," He breathes, the unusual suffix attached to her name ringing with a mocking edge.
Standing, he made his way around the table, and leans down to her ear as she sits there, eyes wide and fixed on the table.
Smirking triumphantly, he moves his mouth close to her ear, close enough that she flinches when his warm breath hits her ear. "I told you Sakura, I never lose," He breathes. She jerks with his bold statement, but made no other movement, back rigid.
"And now you're mine."