One-Shot.

Drabble.

SasuSaku, just because.


We're going to make it through forever.

Anything.

Any obstacle.

I always run, from everything.

But you make me stand up, make me face my fears.

I'm so good at leaping into that shiny, gloating getaway car—and gunning it full-throttle down the street.

But you, you're something different. I leap into the car on memorized impulse, my fingers twitching and my feet ready to dance upon the pedals. But before my hand pushes the stick into drive and before my foot lunges on the gas pedal, I hesitate. The adrenaline rush falters and slows, and I sit there, hands on the controls but not moving at all. I think of your face and look out my rearview mirror, and you're just standing there. Your face is a blank slate, ready to jump into horror or sadness or shock or disappointment or hope.

So before I can fully process what I'm doing, I reach over and throw open the passenger door. It's risky, and I've never done this for anyone before, but I'm too afraid to leave the safety of my car, and I'm too afraid of losing you—losing something good. So I decide to take you along for the ride with me.

Your face flickers with confusion and apprehension, and then you grasp it. You were always quick on the uptake. You make your way to the car and slide into shotgun smoothly, and your dark eyes are beginning to catch fire. The match strikes and then my mouth spreads into a slow, adrenaline-thrumming smile, and the energy is infectious. The corner of your mouth twitches, and I turn my attention back to my controls and the road in front of us—and rev the engines, just for fun. And then we're off, shooting forward, breaking barriers of sound. You clutch your seat with your pale hands, slightly alarmed at the rate the trees are flying by—but a laugh tumbles from my lips, and my true colors are bleeding out.

Adrenaline junkie, people call me. But I can't help it. My foot lowers on the gas pedal harder, further, and the car's pistons work even harder to send us roaring down the highway. My hands slide gears and twitch the wheel, and I lay back, relaxed—I've been doing this all my life. Your hands soon relinquish their death grip upon my dark leather seats, and you're assuaged by the sort of professionalism I'm showing off. You're still a little apprehensive, but your dark eyes smile at me with a building excitement, and more laughter bubbles up and escapes, flying behind us and lost with the wind.

For once, I think everything in my life will be okay. And maybe when we get back from our high-speed journey, I'll finally find the courage and the strength to step out of my car. And maybe I won't have to run anymore—maybe I'll take trips purely for the hell of it, and I know that wherever I go you, Sasuke, will always be right here—beside me.

But for now, I'm perfectly content with the engine vibrating and humming beneath my seat, singing that familiar, growling song, and on taking you with me on the joyride of our lives. We can leave all of our troubles and fears behind us; let them fly away with the wind streaming behind my car. We don't have to worry about anyone except for you and I.

Maybe, just maybe, one day - I'll have the strength to tell you that I love you, still.