She first met him during the time when the leaves turned brown as the nights got colder.
.
.
The sky was painted a shade of blackish blue, mingling with the grey clouds, thundering slightly as the rain poured down harshly onto her skin. Three weeks to winter, she had underestimated the weather—it was colder than expected. She shivered, tugging on her bag and shoved her freezing fingers into the pockets of her hooded sweatshirt, clutching onto the thick fabric tightly. Pink hair wet and sticky, she has been walking aimlessly for twenty minutes, not caring that she was almost drenched from head to toe.
Sakura has no fuckin' clue to where she was, and it was nearly impossible to turn back now. After another round of shit with her father, she has made up her mind to never return. As fresh as the ugly bruises on her arms, she remembered the way his lips curled backwards into a vicious snarl when he raised a threatening arm. She remembered gritting her teeth in anger, she remembered clutching her frantic fingers into a tight fist as she fought back. She remembered how terrified she felt right after, she remembered the look of surprise on her father's face before it morphed into something menacing and ugly.
She ran into her room and slammed it shut immediately, her heart th—th—thudding loudly against her ribcage. She locked the door, ignoring his constant pounding on the hard wood, accompanied by his screams and threats—"Open the fucking door, you fucking slut, or I'll tear this fucking thing down!" Sakura's eyes widened in horror, pacing around the room for few seconds before grabbing her bag, quickly shoving whatever she could get her hands on into it. She climbed out of her one-story window, sprinting towards the main road, flagging a taxi. She told her driver to drive wherever until she didn't have enough to pay for the fare.
All caution was swept by the wind when she acted rashly, out of instinct and impulse, and she knew her father would fuckin' beat her to her grave if she were to head back home now. Home, she thought bitterly, was not something she should use to describe that horrible place. It was not something she should be going back to, it was not something she should ever tolerate. Perhaps if she were to take a long walk down the memory lane, few years ago, yes, she might have accepted what was forcefully thrown at her as 'home,' she might have believed whatever bullshit her father had fed her mind with.
But, as she grew older, she witnessed warmth, love, and compassion—she had seen it with her own eyes, and along the way, she naively stored hope in her heart that maybe, possibly, her father could be like that too. When Sakura thought about it now, she could laugh to herself until her sides hurt because damnit, she should stop doing stupid things that would bring her pain in the end. Who the hell was she trying to fool? Warmth, love, and compassion—she was not taught to feel such things, given that she had put up with shit for far too long doubt her sanity and common sense to feel certain things that normal people have no trouble in feeling.
Blinking back angry tears, Sakura trekked along the train tracks, hearing nothing but the pitter-pattering of the rain, and the squish—squish—squishing noises that her sneakers made as he walked onto the wet grass. Her eyes lighted up when she spotted a train station, and almost immediately, she picked up her pace. The train station looked a little and abandoned to be in use, but Sakura decided to worry about her safety later. Currently, her mental and physical state were more than fucked, all the energy she had was sucked out by the devil himself, and all she felt like doing was to crawl into the comfort of her bed and sleep it off—hoping to wake up from this torment.
She took a seat on a wooden bench, positioned her bag to her right, and carefully leaned her back against the hard surface slowly, trying to minimize the pain by limiting her movements. She concluded that her father was completely batshit insane. Not that he wasn't before, but three days in a row, that was completely new. Usually her father would give her time to rest, a week or two at most to recover. Three, if he was feeling uncharacteristically generous, but that only happened twice—the first time was a long time ago, when she was almost fifteen—young and fuckin' stupid, foolishly threatening him with a knife, hoping that he would believe her bluff to get him off her back. The second time was a few months back, when she burst into tears that turned into pathetic sobs.
Wailing, screaming, and trashing, she didn't know if it was a rare moment of sympathy or guilt that flashed across his face (Sakura couldn't disagree more, that man couldn't feel anything that's related to remorse) but her eyesight was blurred with overflowing tears, she bled everywhere, and everything hurt. A nasty glare and a stern—"Shut the hell up," she was left alone for three weeks. Now nineteen and barely breathing, she supposed she had found the courage to be more daring. Maybe it was the fire in her soul that refused to stay beaten and broken, maybe he had seen the fight in her that dared to go against him, maybe that was the reason why he raised up the stakes to prove that he still had control over her.
Sakura relieved a sigh as she took out her phone from her bag, checking the countless numbers of miss calls and hateful messages that was sent from him. Switching it to air plane mode, she plugged in her earphones and cranked up her favourite song to full volume. Sakura loved music—music played an important role in her life. It was there for her when she crawled into the corner of her room with her head in between her thighs, arms wrapped around her body protectively, shielding herself far, far away from the bad people, music was a coping mechanism—it made her feel a sense of security.
She stood up carefully, walking towards the end of the shelter with her hand sticking out—feeling the wetness of the rain on her palm. The rosette closed her eyes, enjoying the windy breeze on her skin. Rain has always had that effect on her, it made her feel a certain way—be it bitter sweet or peaceful. Content even, and a combination of enjoying her two favourite things was almost enough to make her forget. Even though she was still wet, she stood under the rain once again, face up, eyes wide open, a smile on her face as she whispered the lyrics of her favourite song.
And if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones
'Cause most of our feelings, they are dead and they are gone
We're setting fire to our insides for fun
Collecting pictures from the flood that wrecked our homes
A dull pain in her chest, she allowed the pain to settle in and fully embrace it. The tears came shortly after, breaking her composure as she cried, wailed, for all the times she couldn't, for all the times she didn't allowed herself to. She wailed like a little kid, for all the times she shouted at her father to stop, for wanting love and attention—for all the times she thought life was being a huge bitch for slamming it against her. As she cried, she thought about how awful it would be for people to be going through what she went through, she thought about people around the world who might be crying along with her because they couldn't endure the turmoil within. She cried for for herself, for being so, so weak—she cried for being so fuckin' strong.
Her sobbing slowly stopped, her eyes blotchy and swollen, her cheeks tear-stained, sniffing through her tears and she probably looked like a fuckin' idiot, but a weak smile was plastered on her lips. She giggled half-heartedly at her own silliness, and she thought then, how strong she was for being alive. Closing her eyes as her song was on repeat, she twirled around, feeling the rain on her wet cheeks. Happiness and freedom, she thought, straining a smile, so this is how it feels like. She spin once more, opening her eyes slowly, only to widen them in surprise when she found someone, sitting quietly beside her bag, staring intently at her. Her grin was wiped off instantly, and she resisted the urge to bite her lower lip in embarrassment. Slowly swallowing her saliva, she didn't tear her eyes away from his, inwardly analysing his appearance, preparing herself to run, since she couldn't fight him in her current condition. If he was going to grab her bag and bolt, she needed to be prepared to chase after him.
Although, his appearance didn't strike her as a mugger at all—his clothes looked expensive enough, and if she could calculate how much this stranger spent on it, she was sure it would be her month's worth of allowance. An unzipped black leather jacket, showing a navy blue shirt underneath. Black jeans and normal black snakers with white laces. His hair was jet black, it was spiked up at the back, with bangs framing his face. Somewhere in the back of her mind, far end where she never thought would exist, purred in appreciation. She shushed her conscious, forcefully shoving it away before it could speak again.
Yes, he was handsome and attractive, but he looked cold and unapproachable, and Sakura didn't know what to do next. She was not one to be intimidated so easily, given the fact that the devil himself—someone she was deathly afraid of was not anywhere near her, so she held her gaze, contemplating about her next move. If he was a bad person, no matter how or what he looked like, she should be able to escape. Staring at each other in silence was making her a little uncomfortable, and unfortunately, being stared at by someone attractive especially for so long was something she has never experienced before.
She took off her earphones, and took a hesitating step forward, and another few, an unsure smile on her face.
"Hello," she said, her voice scratchy.
Sakura stood there, a meter away from the bench, fingers fumbling anxiously with the hem of her sweatshirt. She licked her cracked lips, distracting herself from the overwhelming awkwardness. To her relief, the corner of his lips twitched upwards into a lopsided smirk and murmured his hello. Hmm, she thought in curiosity, confused with the way her insides tingled when he spoke. She guessed she had hormones after all, since a simple gesture had made an impact on her. She took a seat at the edge of the bench, with her bag in between, making sure it's distant enough to grab her bag and flee if she ever felt her safety was threatened.
"My name is Sakura," she tried again.
She could feel his eyes on her. She couldn't bring herself to look at him (no, not into his piercing eyes that could see into her soul, no way—she don't want to feel vulnerable, not in front of this stranger), so deciding that she didn't want to be stared at, she lowered her head slightly, damped pink locks shielding her face from him.
"Sasuke," she heard him say, after a short moment of silence. "My name is Sasuke."
Sakura smiled then, taking a peek at him through her hair. Thinking about what an idiot she must have looked like right now, she smoothed her hair back, gaining courage to look at him once again, inwardly scolding herself to stop embarrassing herself. She relaxed when her threw her another smirk, she watched as Sasuke reached into the pockets of his jeans, taking out a box of Marlboro and a lighter. He lit up the tip, breathing in the smoke, and exhaling it out.
"You're staring," he stated, startling her, breaking away from her thoughts, "do you want one?"
Trying not to flush, she scoffed, with her lips twitching upwards.
"Hey there Mr, you were staring at me first, but I didn't complain, did I?" She said teasingly, tucking a pink strand behind an ear. "I don't smoke, but... Okay. You'll have to teach me." He stayed silent again, but he took out another cigarette and hand it to her—he didn't look annoyed, and he certainly didn't tell her to shut up, so Sakura supposed talking was okay. She murmured her thanks and took the stick from him, carefully trying not to touch him more than she need to. Placing the cigarette in between her lips, she looked at Sasuke then, reaching out a hand, expecting him to hand the lighter. Surprisingly, he nodded to her, gesturing to come closer.
Sakura complied to his request, leaning forward towards him, emerald eyes cast downwards—concentrating at the tip of the cigarette instead, so that she wouldn't have to look at him in the eye.
"Suck in the smoke. Breathe it in," Sasuke nodded, encouraging her to go on, "Breathe it out."
She followed his instructions, ignoring the harsh sensation in her throat when she tried to inhale it, but before she could even exhale it out smoothly, like how Sasuke did it earlier, she couldn't help but to cough it out.
"Well. That's fuckin' nasty."
Despite herself, she sucked in the smoke again, ignoring the amused smirk on Sasuke's face. Sakura placed the cigarette in between her fingers, and decided to rest her gaze on Sasuke. She was sure he wouldn't mind her looking at him, and even if he did, it was he who creeped on her in the first place, silently watching her while she was having an emotional breakdown—why should she feel like she was the one intruding when she was here previously? Although, she thought again, studying intently at his features, he really is handsome. After acknowledging that thought, she mentally screamed at herself to stop acting like a little girl with a high school crush, for being so stupidly shallow to be be instantly attracted to this mysterious stranger. She slammed her body softly against the wooden bench in frustration, only to hiss in pain afterwards, momentarily forgetting that her body was still sore.
What a fuckin' idiot she was.
"You're hurt."
The rosette waited for the pain to go away before placing her whole weight against the bench, shifting her body carefully to make herself comfortable. She tapped on the cigarette, flicking the ash on the ground, before pursing her lips together, inhaling the smoke. She shrugged her shoulders, and turned her body to his direction, trying not to wince in pain in doing so.
"Oh yeah," She said challengingly, any air of friendliness gone, "So are you."
She watched as Sasuke narrowed his eyes at her. Now this, this was something Sakura was familiar with—staring into someone's eyes in a hostile manner, a placid front that was mastered for years to annoy her father. Stealthily moving her fingers towards her bag, Sakura was ready to move if needed. She slipped an arm in it, fingers playing with a weapon she brought from her room for protection, the same weapon she stole from her father two years ago, hidden beneath her pillow back at home, the same knife she imagined killing her father with. If Sasuke tried to hurt her, she would not hesitate to hurt him either. To her surprise, his glare soften, and an unpleasant chuckle rang through her ears. She frowned, taken aback by his strange behaviour, though, she relaxed a little, but she didn't move her fingers away.
"No wonder you're brave to be alone here, you have a weapon in there."
Sakura raised an eyebrow.
"What makes you think that?"
Sasuke took a last drag of his cigarette and flicked it to the ground, smashing it with his shoe.
"It's quite obvious," He said lazily, pointing to her bag, "From the moment you saw me, your eyes were directed to your bag. Not that there's anything abnormal about it—anyone would be wary and suspicious when there's a stranger sitting near your belongings, but I doubt there's anything valuable in it that would pique up interest. When you sat next to me, you thought I didn't notice the way you behaved. Looking at the state you are in, and the place you chose to stay for the night—a young girl who was clearly hurt, carrying a bag that's too big to be a purse, suddenly decided to rest in a shady place? No, you were surprisingly confident and brave. Now, why the fuck is that?"
His voice turned mocking and domineering as he finished his last sentence. The rosette narrowed her eyes, her mouth opened, wit and insults ready to be lashed out snarkily when he rudely interrupted her again.
"You said I was hurt. Why?"
Sakura glared.
"Well," She drawled, her voice oozing out with sarcasm, "Look at you. Look at the pretty boy with pretty clothes that probably cost a bomb. Striking features that could rival a model, I am sure a guy like yourself would have plenty of friends, so why are you here in a dangerous looking place? Ideally, if I were to stereotype, a guy like yourself would be enjoying life around with the people you love, but yet you're here, in a dangerous looking place, far away from where you live, because you want to be somewhere alone to gather your thoughts. Now," Sakura smirked mockingly, half-sneering, "Why is that, Sasuke?"
The air was so thick that even if she were to cut it with a sharp knife, she would have trouble in doing so. They stayed like that, glaring ferociously at each other for couple of seconds, minutes—she lost count, when Sakura sighed out in frustration, and looked away. She doesn't have the energy to fight with him anymore, so, she sucked the rest of her cigarette and threw it on the ground, closing her eyes. Why should she deal with this shit anyway, she thought, frowning, Sasuke was such an ass, venting out his frustrations at her. She was almost beaten to death, but didn't go all passive-aggressive on him, so what gave him the right to do it to her? Sakura thought of leaving, but she didn't know where else she could go, because she was an impulsive idiot, always has been—she wouldn't be in this position if she were to stay obedient in the first place.
"Who was it?"
Sasuke wasn't one to pry into people's business, but the way she looked—so helpless and alone, made his blood boil. He doesn't know why, but fuck, he just met this girl, crying alone in the rain and giggling afterwards, she could be a mental case for god sake, but when he looked into her eyes—bright, bright—glassy green, told him that she went through too much, seen too much, mental battles and physical ones, from the way she walked. From the way she would wince and grit her teeth in pain from moving.
This girl, (Sakura, his mind chided, her name is Sakura) was screaming help and she wasn't even aware of it. Sasuke was taught and raised to treat women with respect, or his mother would literally kill him if he was caught mistreating a woman. So, who in the hell did this to her? Was it a family member—was it someone she got into trouble with—was it a male, because dear Hades, he would find that man and crush him personally. Sasuke watched her through his bangs, readjusting her position, her fingers balled into a tight fist. On instinct and from experience, Sasuke took out a cigarette and hand it to her, along with his lighter. He saw the way her eyes lit up in surprise, and a thankful smile on her lips as she took the items from him. Again, he thought, narrowing his eyes, she refrained herself from touching him casually. Not that he wasn't glad—Sasuke hated people touching him more than anything, but Sakura's reason was something entirely different.
Sasuke stayed silent again, watching her from the corner of his eyes, intrigued and slightly worried for this weird girl.
"It was a man I hated," She spoke suddenly, "I... I ran away, and now I don't know where to go. I'm an idiot."
Something in him snapped, but he stared at her calmly, his eyes narrowed dangerously into slits.
"Where are you parents?"
He saw her hesitating, sucking the life out of the cigarette—inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.
"They are already ghosts."
They were raising this conversation into a deeper level, both of them knew it. Sasuke felt it, but he couldn't help himself for wanting to know more. Under normal circumstances, he would have run away—or at least, steer the uncomfortable questions away, but somewhere in his mind told him that he was in her position years back, when his angst was deeper than the depths of hell. When he needed help but too proud to say so, but fortunately for him—he still had his parents and his idiotic friends who wouldn't leave him alone even if he went on his knees and begged them to. Part of Sakura's accusation was right—he was surrounded by idiots, by the idiots he loved to death (not that he would admit it out loud). But what about her? He doubt that she has anyone she love around her, because if was the case, she wouldn't be right here, in this state right now.
Popular to contrary belief, Sasuke does have a heart.
"If you don't have anywhere to go, stay with me."
Sakura never trust.
Not when someone tried to make friends with her in middle school, or the shy girl who shared a history text book in class when Sakura forgot to bring hers. Not when she woke up from the hospital bed years ago, being told by the nurses and police men that her parents died in a car crash and she was the only one who survived, not when a strange blonde man came to her few months later, with a fake, fake, fake smile with blue eyes that were too big, telling her that he would be her new father.
So it was only natural to frown cynically, and demanded to know what his hidden intentions were.
"What's in it for you?"
When he stayed silent and muttered nothing afterwards, Sakura raised her eyebrows in distrust. Her first instinct was to say no, to tell him to stay the hell away from her, but if he was really sincere about letting her stay over at his place... What then? A comfy bed—hell, a comfy floor would beat sleeping in a dangerous place, even if she has a knife in her bag. If he was serious, if he was offering his help, she should decline his offer... Right? Sakura contemplated for a short while, listing down pros and cons, before nodding her head slowly.
"Okay."
He nodded at her back, standing up, shoving his fingers into the pockets of his jacket.
Sasuke silently drove into the driveway of his house, parking his car in a swift movement.
He turned to look at the sleeping girl with tear stains on her cheek. Seriously, this girl was driving him nuts—after bickering about something so pointless, he was only trying to help by carrying her heavy bag, since he was in no condition to carry it by herself, but since she was so fuckin' paranoid about everything, Sasuke allowed her to have her way instead. Sasuke knew she didn't trust him—as mysterious this girl was to him, she was an open book too, with her doe—like eyes, he could see through her.
Sasuke woke her up, as gently as possible like his mother had taught him.
"Come on," he said once she was awake, "We're already here."
He got out of his car and waited for Sakura, then locked it afterwards. He led her to his house, looking back at her to make sure that she was following him. He walked passed by the long hallway, not bothering to switch on the lights, since he was too familiar with his house, even after it was newly renovated few months back. He grabbed hold on Sakura when they climbed up the stairs, not wanting her to trip along the way, and to his relief, she didn't pull away and make a scene. Not that he didn't understand, he does to an extent—but he wouldn't want his parents to wake up by this girl, because then he would have to explain himself more than he wanted to, and that was something Sasuke tried to avoid on a daily basis.
Secretly he thanked his mother for renovating his room even though he protested before, because if Sakura was hungry and thirsty, he has everything in his room—a mini kitchen, frozen food, and few ingredients to cook up something quick when he's feeling lazy to go down to the kitchen. He turned a corner, and opened the door to his room, switching on the lights. Closing the door, he walked to his bed and falling on it, lying on his back, suddenly feeling very tired.
He sneaked a look at Sakura, and sat upwards then.
"You can have the bed, I'll take the couch."
He took off his jacket and tossed it to the ground, taking extra pillows in his cupboard.
"Oh no, I'll take the couch instead."
Sasuke paused, blinking at her.
"Don't be fuckin' ridiculous Sakura," He hissed, clearly annoyed, "I don't want to argue about this with you. Take the bed."
Sakura looked at him then, the look that she has when he offered to take her bag, or when he told her to stay with him. Sasuke ruffled his hair, pushing his bangs back in distress at this difficult girl, until she said, "Well, I don't want you to sleep somewhere else that is not your bed since it's your room. So why don't we just share the same bed?"
Sasuke raised an eyebrow then, surprised.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?"
When she frowned at him, Sasuke resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"What do you mean by that?"
There she go again, he thought, always assuming the worst.
"Nothing," Sasuke said tiredly, positioning the pillows, "Go ahead, I'll switch off the lights."
.
.
Sakura has been staying at Sasuke's for half a year now.
She has met Mikoto, the loveliest woman she has ever seen, the woman who Sakura secretly wished to be her mother. Mikoto was an incredible host, she thought, far too great and lovely to be Sasuke's mother. She has also met Sasuke's older brother, Itachi, a block of ice like his brother, although, she supposed Itachi was a little more proper and rigid than Sasuke. Although, he did treat her with kindness despite his placid front, and she was every so grateful to each of them, even Sasuke's father. All the Uchiha men have similar attributes, she concluded, all of them were so intimidating and cold, but also, so very kind.
Sakura was still schooling, and to her surprise, her father was arrested few weeks later, placed behind bars for a lifetime. She figured Sasuke's dad had something to do with it—he was the head of the police department after all, so it explained why Sasuke had gotten away with a few things, when he told her about the shit he used to do back then. She felt bad about having Mikoto paying for her school fees, so she offered to work, even though the lovely woman was completely against the idea. Sakura insisted, and she was not one to back down from doing something she believed was right. After three weeks of pleading, asking, and explaining, Mikoto unwillingly agreed, much to Sakura's relief.
Sakura couldn't thank Sasuke enough to bring her into his world of happiness, and for being so patient and understanding despite his asshole self. Of course, for two months, it was difficult for Sakura to adjust. On her first night spending here, she remembered waking up from a horrible nightmare, screaming and wailing like a fuckin' lunatic, when Sasuke wrapped his arms around her, asking her what's wrong, before telling her that everything was okay, over and over again. When she was calm after a few moments, she began to open herself up slowly, telling him a few things at a time, not wanting to dump her fuckin' disaster of a life on him. She expected him to throw her out right then, but he was very patient with her, listening to her shitty life story, and he even offered her to take her to a specialist if she was comfortable with it, if that would help her ease her pain, even if it's a little.
Sasuke has introduced her to his 'bunch of idiots'—a loud mouthed blonde, another uptight brunette with strange white eyes, a grinning brunette with triangle tattoos on his cheeks, and a toothy smirk from a man with silver hair. Their reactions were priceless when they first saw her lying on his bed, wearing one of his favourite shirts, because she was out of clean ones, the three of them screaming and demanding to know who she was. The silent one, Neji, nodded at her, acknowledging her existence. It was funny to see their loud banters, sides of Sasuke that seemed foreign to Sakura.
Sakura would drop a fact about her every night—on how much she loved nerding out in the library, she loved sweets, and she adored animals, and he would tell her about him. Even though she was more comfortable around him now, now and then, she would be vocal about her thoughts, that she expected her walls to come down crashing around her any time soon, because life wasn't fair like that. Life was a roller coaster, she thought, it needed to be balanced. After the experiencing the bad, she had experienced the good, so something worse should happen next. If it stayed good for far too long, the worse would be terrible, and the impact would be a fuckin' disaster, because she has experienced things she thought she was not capable of—and if the worse were to come now, she would be wishing more, dreaming for something better to happen again.
Sometimes he would be listening quietly to her, other times, he would tell her to shut up and not to think about such things. When she protested against him, he would shut her up by smashing his mouth against hers. He made her feel things, Sakura told him once, while playing with his hair, something she was not ready to admit yet. And when he told her to explain in detail, she did. Sakura told him that he made her feel happy and content just by being near him, he made her feel wonderful and safe, he made her feel... Amazing. As pathetic as it sounds, Sakura has never felt good about herself until she met Sasuke. He taught her to live properly, he taught her things, he taught her to be brave, he taught her to feel okay to be herself.
Once, when she was feeling terrible, frustrated, and utter shit at everything—her emotions fluctuate, it was never constant and this fact often drove her insanely close to completely losing herself, Sasuke took her to an abandoned garage, and told her to wait for a couple of minutes, before coming back with five bottles of fuel. He led her into the garage, and Sakura found herself looking at rows of abandoned cars, used and spoilt—he prompted her to pour the oil on a car, urging her that she would feel better afterwards. True to his words, she did, she watched as the car burned, the metal turned distorted and black, and she screamed in excitement.
"Why do I still feel like this Sasuke," She asked him, after they're out of fuel, so they decided to lie down on the grass instead, staring at the bright stars, fingers intertwining.
"Don't blame yourself Sakura," He said softly, but sternly, squeezing her hand for reassurance, "It happens. You've been moulded by that bastard for fuckin' years—it's post-traumatic, he's been feeding you bullshit and hurting you constantly, this is the result. He's not fuckin' human, he's disgusting," Sasuke snarled at the end, "But it's alright now, he's gone. You have me. If you ever feel suicidal Sakura, please tell me."
Sakura kissed him then, for being so fuckin' sweet and amazing, for being everything she didn't thought she deserved. He would tell her that she was beautiful, he would tell her that she deserved to be happy, he would tell her sweet nothings that made her feel wonderful. Sometimes she apologised too many times—for being difficult, sometimes, she would want to explain her questionable thoughts and actions—but it was so fuckin' hard for her to do so, and Sasuke understood that. They had created a beautiful world for themselves, something so scary that Sakura was hesitant to be in, but after months of kindness and familiarity, Sakura fell slow, Sakura fell hard. It was scary to let him in, it was scary to let him know about things that would made her vulnerable, that would made her feel completely naked.
"You know," She said suddenly, strumming on Sasuke's guitar, "I wanted to become a doctor."
Sasuke 'hmmed' in response, listening to the chord progression, from G chord to F chord, to E chord, then back to G chord, correcting her fingers when it sounded out of tune. Sakura laughed, and rolled her eyes playfully at him, muttering, ugh, such a perfectionist, under her breath.
Sasuke smirked.
"Well yeah, I wanted to become a doctor. That's why I was studying so hard in school."
Sasuke raised an eyebrow.
"You could still be one, if that's what you want still."
Sakura stopped, an unsure look on her face—depressing thoughts swirled around, doubt clouded her mind.
Sasuke, recognizing this pattern, turned to look at her, placing his guitar at his side of the bed. He shifted closer to her, burying his nose into the crook of her neck and hold her silently. "You can be whatever you want Sakura," He whispered, his lips brushing her cheek. "Fuck everything, fuck your demons. You're a strong, independent woman. Hell, when I first met you," Sasuke said slowly, rubbing his thumb over her skin, "I thought you were a lunatic," To which Sakura laughed silently at this, and Sasuke smirked at her laugh, because this was good, distracting her when she's at her worst, "But fuck it—you were strong enough to be alive, you were strong enough to pull it through, and you were amazing."
Sakura concluded that whatever she faced before, was a blessing in disguise. Because without her father's torment (although part of her wished that she didn't have to go through all of that) she wouldn't have ran away, she wouldn't have met Sasuke. So this was what she was missing out—when the girls in her class giggled happily when they received a text from their boyfriends, when she read story books in the library, warmth, love, compassion—this was what it felt like. She kissed his cheek and rest her head on his chest, so that he couldn't see the tears in her eyes. Sakura hated crying, but they were good tears, happy tears. Sakura took his words at face value, and she decided that when Sasuke was with her, she could be anything.
A/n: Well, the ending was too sweet for my taste—if you guys have ever read my oneshots, you know how much I am not fond of... Happy endings. Anyway, I'm feeling worse than shit, so this is the result of that suppressed angst. Also, I've noticed that the characters are a little OOC, but eh. I just felt like writing something new. Do review and tell me your thoughts on it.
Much love,
xxshadesofed
