Sasuke and Sakura © Kishimoto Masashi
In the back of my mind, I know this is a dream, I know this is something that I won't remember upon waking up. I dream, but it feels as if it's real. Just a dream, but some part of me wants it to be real.
And I never feel as if I'm in control of the dream. More like as if I'm just a spectator, a puppet, who's strings are being pulled by a unknown force. I know what's going to happen. I just know. Some part of me, the normal part, wants to be in control of things, wants things to be different this time. But I know they won't be. Everything will be same as in my last dream. And everything will be the same in the dreams that will follow.
There must be a purpose for this torture. This dream, where everything is the same time and time again. I'm supposed to be a brilliant engineer, one who crack even the toughest nuts, and yet my mind can't grasp why this is happening to me. I wonder if the only other person I ever see in my dream, is aware of the same things. And I wonder why I share my dreams with her.
Off all the people aboard this godforsaken world, I'm sharing my dreams with the one person who I can't seem to have a single conversation with, without ending in a insult.
As if on cue, she appears just a few feet before me. Her eyes blinking a few times, as if she's trying to become aware of her surroundings. Even though she must know, just like I do, that we've been here before. That we've done these things before, that we've danced this dance before.
Just like the last time, and all the times before, I step forward and reach out with one of my hands. Stroking her soft cheeks, taking in every inch of her. I realize that what I'm doing now, will never be happening in reality. If that's the purpose of the dream, I don't know. I do know I never look at her this way in reality, only in this damn dream. I curse myself, knowing when I wake up I won't remember this. Won't remember the way she looks at me right now. The way she use to remember me.
Always calling her a Borg, a drone; Asking me on dates, to help her train. Yet when I cup her chin and pull her closer to me, I know she's much more human then I give her credit for. Much more human than me. Why can't I see this, when I normally look at her? Why does this only happen in my dreams? Why why why? The unfairness of it all makes my heart clench, suffering in silence.
She closes her eyes for a moment, but when she opens them again, they're even more liquid emerald then normally. Emotions swirling inside them like a whirlpool. She mimics my earlier gesture, and strokes my cheeks with her hand. It's so soft and warm, so comforting and so familiar.
The silence hangs around us like a thick fog. Yet it's somehow comforting. I know words can break this, the moment that is now. And I know, words will come and destroy this.
I lick my lips in a unconscious gesture, and at the same time I feel her eyes focus on my tongue, following it's every movement. There is no way out, no denying what this moment will lead too. We've been here before, a dozen times, maybe a hundred times, I never counted. The air around us, is alive with electricity, our bodies moving closer, a prelude to what yet has to come.
Her thumb moves over my lips, which are still moist, where my tongue touched them moments before. I let out a barely audible gasp, the contact burning into my skin, as if I'm set on fire. Once again I know what will come, and the anticipation is killing me softly, a sweet torture.
I grab her hand, dropping it between our bodies, as I intertwine her fingers with my own. Slowly I bend forward, something I've done before so many times, and I kiss her beautiful full lips, barely touching them, but the contact satisfying a need anyways. Only to have that need doubled a second later. She knows what I want, and without having to ask she opens her lips against my own.
I love the first feeling of her tongue touching my lips, begging for entrance. And as I gasp, she gets what she wants. I move my other hand behind her head, pulling her closer, deepening the sweet contact even more, as our tongues battle, neither winning or losing, and not caring about it anyways.
In the end, the lack of oxygen breaks us apart, but only for a moment. Our foreheads resting against each other, heaving for air. My eyes are only inches from hers, conveying what I feel without speaking. Then she bends forward a little, and kisses my eyelids with her soft lips. Soothing almost.
I lean against her chest as she strokes through my hair. Both lost in our own thoughts, both probably knowing what will follow next. I wish I could tell her what I feel that moment, wish I could somehow stop the time, and stay there in the solace of her arms for eternity.
And even though I know, still, that this is just a dream, I also know that this will affect reality. I hope this will affect reality, when I wake up. Maybe one day, I will remember this, remember the mistake I keep making, and correct it. Maybe one day I will give the correct answer to the question she asks me every time. But I know...today won't be that day.
She grabs my shoulders and moves me away from her a little. A range of emotions moving over her face. Her lips open, preparing to speak for the first time in this dream, and the last time. I wish I could prevent it from happening. Wish I could just silence her with a kiss. I can't. I can't do anything about this, and I can't give her the answer she wants to hear so much.
"Do you need me Uchiha Sasuke. Do you care for me the way I care for you. Do you love me the way I love you."
Before the single world, that is my answer, leaves my mouth I know what I'm going to say. And I damn myself for it. I damn myself for hurting her, for I know she's more human then I will ever be.
"No."
And once again I see her turn away from me. I know her eyes are full of unshed tears, even more liquid emerald then before, but for all the wrong reasons. And I can feel my heart clench, like somebody has a iron grip on them, and will never let go of them. I ache for her, so much my body shakes from keeping everything inside. Bottled up as always.
And instead of grabbing her shoulders, instead of turning her towards me, instead of taking her in my arms, like I want to do so much, I move my back towards her, and walk away. Walk away like the goddamn coward I am.
That moment, the only purpose of the dream seems to be to torture me. Torture me with images of what will never be. Torture me with words that I have never said in reality, and will not remember when I wake up. But they hurt nevertheless.
And everything becomes black again. The moment before I wake up, in blisfull unawareness of what has happened in my dreams. And I feel myself sinking, sinking in this silence, ending the dream.
That is how I wake up, every single day.
With her name on my lips.
"Sakura."
And never knowing why.
The End