It wasn't supposed to be this way. Her life was supposed to turn out perfectly.
She was Head Medic of Konoha Hospital, the wife of Konoha's most sought bachelor, matriarch of one of the village's most prestigious clans.
Haruno Sakura had everything a girl could dream for, and she was the happiest woman on Earth. Or so thought the villagers.
But she wasn't. She wasn't, so she went to him.
Uzumaki Naruto. Former member of the Legendary Team 7. Trained by
Jiraiya, the Legendary Toad Sage and Hatake Kakashi, the Copy Ninja. Vessel to the
Nine-Tailed Fox. Youngest Anbu in history. Hokage of Konohagakure. Her best friend. And, in the odd night, her lover. – Her lover.
She tried to convince herself that it was only a game. That it was only to make herself feel better. She even tried to convince him of that, knowing already it was impossible for her to lie to him. One look, and he would know the truth. He would know that she was lying to herself, know that this was not purely physical to her, know how she felt, know that she...
She shouldn't do this. She couldn't... But she did it anyway.
"Sakura…" he whispers her name breathlessly on her ear. "Sakura…"
She tries to resist it, already knowing she won't be able to. It is just a game she likes to play, to see how long she can resist him. But she knows she never can. She reaches to touch his face. Just one touch, just one…
And she is doomed. Cursed into those eyes. Condemned to kiss those lips. Enslaved to his body. Subjected to these nights of passion, the only thing that made sense in her life these days. The only thing that made her feel worthwhile. Wanted. Loved.
They are so different.
The one used to be aggressive, and seized her with what she thought to be passion.
These days he is mostly passive, even indifferent, one may say. Where there used to be dreamy sighs, crazy fantasies, and a wild infatuation, she is only left with discomfort and insecurity. His touches lack any warmth or desire. He touches her almost… reluctantly. The way one does a tiresome chore.
The other was completely the opposite. He makes her shiver, sweat, moan. He touches her adoringly, tenderly, worshiping her body in a way no one else had before. He drinks in her smell, his warmth enveloping her in every intimate moment they share.
And she knows that, if she had no pride, no consideration, no shame… She would choose the other without a doubt.
Kisses trail down her neck, tender and electric at the same time. Her hands run through his messy hair, clinging desperately. She wants more. He obliges with a satisfied grin.
He lays her in the bed softly, only to peel her off fiercely, wildly. He wants more too. His nose trails over her figure, drinking in her smell, giving her delightful shivers in all the right places.
And she hates it.
The way she fits so perfectly in his arms. How he knows exactly what to do to make her feel right. What spots to kiss, nip, lick, to take her into a frenzy. The way he brushes the loose strands of her hair. How he caresses her cheeks. The way he kisses her, tender at times, but fierce nonetheless. His eyes looking into her soul. His smile, perpetually reassuring her. Comforting her. Loving her.
She hates it, because when that happens she knows.
She made the wrong choice.
One whisper.
"Sakura…"
Lust.
"I'm sorry, but... I have to say it. I have to tell you this..."
Passion.
"I've never felt this way about anyone before…"
He keeps on kissing her, deepening the kiss with every movement he made, wrapping himself around her nude form.
"You're the only one, Sakura…"
He pulls back to look at her. His look is serious, tender. Loving.
"I love you…"
Her eyes widen.
Shock.
She closes them, knowing well what she has to do. Even if it kills her.
A chill down her spine.
Coldness.
"Don't say that..."
Sorrow.
"You and I both know we can't go any further than this..."
Regret.
