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Sakura walked into the same old bar tonight, the one that smelled of alcohol and cigarettes and sweat. The dance floor was empty except for a few stragglers that grinded slowly in their drunken haze. Maybe they were lovers or maybe they were strangers looking for a little comfort tonight. Who was she to judge anymore? After what she had done, she couldn't scoff at the idea of getting lost in a movement – a dance – of passion without any attachments, feelings, and heartaches. To just get lost. It sounded appealing, but it wasn't a stranger's arms that she wanted around her tonight.

Sakura saw him sitting there on a torn, dirty green bar stool, empty beer bottle in hand. He was just staring at the ceiling. He must have sensed someone watching him, or maybe he knew it was her, because his eye didn't widen in surprise when he looked at her. He looked tired, shoulders slumped further down than usual.

His gaze shifted from her to the empty bottle still in his hand. He stared at it as if he was wondering when he finished it. As he set it down, she could see his whole body sigh.

Sakura dragged her feet as she made her way to him. He didn't look at her, but back at the ceiling. She climbed into the seat next to him and dropped my heels unceremoniously to the floor. There was a thud, and a short, one breath of a laugh emerged from the man beside her.

"You once yelled at me for putting your heels in the wrong shoebox, and here you are now, dropping them on a grimy floor."

She felt herself smile as she focused on etching a random pattern into the wood counter with her fingernail.

"I know. My priorities weren't straight then. They're a lot clearer now." Sakura said as she scratched a swirl into the wood. It was choppy. Broken. Rough. It stood alone on a vast plain of canvas, so she did another, and another, and another just to fill that void. She opened her mouth to release a quiet sob.

"Look, I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I should have listened to you and-"

"Stop. Please, stop." He said, voice tight, and through all her tears that were now flowing , she looked at him for the first time in a long time.

His onyx eyes, still locked on the ceiling were watering up as he fought his own tears. He looked broken, finally run down as if all the scars on his heart tore open at their seams. And when he finally looked down at her, it occurred to her that his wall of apathy didn't just have a crack. It was crumbling and he was letting her see it happen.

"I left because I couldn't bear to see you get hurt, I was angry and afraid. I didn't know how to handle it, so I yelled at you. Threw a tantrum like a child. I knew I couldn't lose you, so I left you first, even though I knew you would need me. I was selfish."

"And I was stubborn." She resisted, "I never even tried to listen to you. My dream had come true. At least, I thought it did. I was in love with the ideal of him and I couldn't see who he really was. I refused to see it. I should have listened to you."

"There are things we both should have done, but…" He trailed off and watched a couple on the dance floor share giggles and seductive whispers. When he looked back at her, he wasn't the broken figure she saw minutes ago or the apathetic creature he pretends to be, but the man she's always known him to be. He was strong and caring and passionate. His large, calloused hand took hers.

"I acted out of jealousy. Blind, angry jealousy of you being with a man, who didn't deserve you. I wanted you to be out of his reach in my arms. I wanted to steal you away from him and the world. It came to the point I couldn't even stand to look at you, because you weren't looking at me. I wouldn't be the one to hold you at night."

"Take me home tonight. Please, I can't be alone. I need you with me. I've always needed you." Sakura urged him.

"Always? Even when you were twelve? I don't think your parents would have approved, Sakura." He said, and she could see the smile hidden underneath that mask. It was a smile Sakura hadn't seen in a long time, and she realized how much she missed it. His smile made her smile, so she punched him in the arm. He didn't flinch, but his smile vanished. He became serious, and he looked at her with love and desire. It burned into her. Time froze and she held her breath, and watched that flame dance in his onyx eye. She wasn't aware of anything else that wasn't him. The dancers, the music, the smell of smoke and beer melted into the background. She could only feel his hand on hers and the pounding of her own heart as it beat to a new rhythm. A rhythm that was slow and hard. A rhythm that played for him and only him.

His hand moved from her hand then, but he never broke contact with her skin. His hand traveled slowly up her arm and across her shoulder to her neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps. He lifted it to her cheek, where her paused to wipe at her smeared mascara. Her mouth parted, heat fanning across her face and down her body. His hand came to rest on the back of her head, his fingers intertwining with her hair.

Then it happened. Sakura felt his lips against hers and her eyes shut and she was leaning into the kiss. She didn't see him pull the mask down. She didn't get a glimpse at his face. She didn't care. All that mattered was the feeling of his soft, warm lips against her. It didn't matter what happened in the past. Her hands found his hair and he scooped her up.

Heels forgotten and swirls abandoned, he carried her home.

Author's Note

Hi, everyone! Thanks for the read. This is a lil something I wrote a little bit ago, but finally had the courage to post. I switched it from first person to third person, so hopefully I caught all the "I's" and "me's" that were in there. If you want to read what happens when they get home, well, heh, lemme know.

-Curly