Disclaimer: I do not own any characters of Naruto world.

If you can

„If you can touch me with your hands, leave hot wet kisses on my hot skin; kiss my lips tasting them… If you can enjoy my excitement, my hunger for more, my moans, my lustful cries, my bites on your skin… If you can make me feel loved, needed, cared for… If you can take me to the world of pure feeling of heaven… If you can…"

She paused, took a deep breath in then continued in quiet low voice "with me thinking of someone else kissing me" feeling her hot breath on his cool skin made him feel crazy. He didn't understand what she was saying. He wasn't really listening to her whispers "taking me, making me cry in painful pleasure, enjoying pleasurable pain… If you can…"

She was sitting near to him. Feeling him tense, feeling his whole body go rigid and loose his breath she couldn't say if it was because of her touching him, speaking to him in low aroused voice or because of the words she spoke. Never in her young years had she thought that some day she would be telling her first love that she wasn't his anymore. She thought first love was forever – that it couldn't be forgotten or overwritten with another emotion for someone else.

This evening was a gathering between friends. They joked, drank, danced and talked. She could see red faced friends making bets who would win the next round of drinking or who would have to be the next in the 'truth or dare' game. She could see their eyes on her, on him.

For the last couple of days they both were playing game of seduction: who can seduce whom – who is the best killer of hearts. He made it clear that he wanted her in his bed crying out his name and begging for more: for her release. He touched her – tiny moments – just to feel her skin, just to touch her. He was never persistent about her in the past as he was now. He wanted her. She didn't. Not anymore – but he didn't know it for sure. So he tried more and more. He tried to make her go crazy over him as he was with her. She was like a never ending bottle of wine making him drunken.

Days, years passed after he walked from her on that rainy day, leaving her to face her weakness, leaving her to become stronger, leaving her to forget him. She forgot him, forgot his eyes, forgot his face, forgot her painful feelings for him. She didn't want to remember her pain. It was buried deep in her young heart. Aching to be healed she forgot the pain; let her sorrow and weakness behind her on the other side of her life, hiding it in the darkest part of her life to be lost and than forgotten forever.

After years of waiting for him he came back. He returned to the village. He was forgiven, taken back as a prodigal who after realizing his mistake had crawled back to the mother's warmth.

He came back. He came back to her. When she wasn't waiting for him anymore…

"If you can be him … whom I love,"- she leaned further into him, bringing her hand to his cheek stroking his strong cheekbone with one finger, going from his ear to his parted lips.

"If you can pretend not to hear his name on my lips… If you can pretend not to see my eyes searching for his, pretend not to hear my groans of lust imagining his hot mouth on mine silencing me … If you can pretend not to feel my body shivering in anticipation of his touch… If you can be - him. If only…"

He shivered under her touch. Not daring to touch her finger on his long ago dried lips he looked her in the eyes not blinking, not moving. She felt hot on his skin. He could feel her body where they touched. Her little finger running on his face, on his lips, was like thousands of needles poking in his body; her words were thousands of swords killing his heart.

"If you can take what is now only his. If you can find cure for his poison – not killing me and not letting me live. He is poison in my mind, in my blood. He is under my skin. I wake up with his name on my mind. I go to bed with his name on my lips. I eat, work, smile, cry, fear, dream with his name as tacit prayer for him to hear it."

She had a feeling he was trying to fall further into the sofa they were sitting on, that he tried to escape her touch. At that point she fully understood that she won their game. She won. He lost. But things were not really cleared between them. He needed to know that there was no future for him with her. He needed to hear her saying it out loud for him to fully understand her.

With second hand travelling from his neck skimming over his arm, coming to stop at his waistline she spoke in a quieter voice.

"If you can be him to take my fist kiss, to be the first man to touch my body, to take away my innocence…" She didn't need to continue. He understood. He lost. He lost her to another man.

"Who is he?" Sasuke rather whispered in agony than asked Sakura a question. Slowly sitting up she gave him a warm smile, her eyes met his. She didn't reply.

Standing up, her eyes never leaving his, never saying a word, she then stood several long seconds in front of him. As if remembering something she made a move to leave him.

In a half turn she addressed her former teacher who was sitting not far from them reading in a dim light one of his books. "Kakashi…" But her piercing eyes never left his.

When she didn't get a reply, she tried again: "Kakashi-sensei, do you want some water? You look as if you'd…" Her eyes were no longer on him.

He didn't hear the rest of what she was saying; her words were swept by the light night breeze. She left without giving him an answer to his question.

A/N: This is a one-shot.

The idea of Sakura leaving Sasuke for someone else was nagging me for the past months. It was there but I didn't know how to express it. I didn't want to write about the actual love story between Kakashi and Sakura – just some words about how Sasuke got to know that he entirely lost her to someone else. I don't know if it was love he felt for her, but I imagine that with Sakura's actions in the past he assumed that she still loved him. Also I don't know if love was something Sasuke was looking for.

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