I don't own
I could have burst out into laughter, screamed in pure agony or I could've started shedding big, wet tears, but none of the options sounded appropriate. Instead, I stood there with a look that said nothing in particular (because I really wasn't trying to get anything across), and waited for him to finish whatever he was saying, because I really stopped listening after he said "We're over". I'm not one of those people who want to hear why we needed to break up, really. You could say it's because I'm not one to readily make room for self improvement, but I really think it's just because I might end up showing some pansy emotion if I start to care. Yawning, I glance up at him, and realize just how gorgeous he looks right now. I'm tempted to pounce on the bastard and demand sex from him, but I refrain from doing so by concentrating on our (As in, Shizune, Tsunade's and mine…who were you thinking? My boyfriend?) Paycheck, which is currently suffering the death grip of being clenched in my fist for fifteen minutes. He's starting to ramble on and on now, and for a brief second I imagine him choking on his falsely sentimental words, making his perfect face go blue. I whip my head around the other way, cutting him off in the middle of a sentence, and start toward the tavern I left a half hour ago and mumble, "I'm leaving," Before I start swaying back and forth and kick off my heels in the middle of Bourbon street, intent on making it home without falling.
"You looked like an idiot, standing there," I started talking to myself.
"Mouth agape, eyes wide, unresponsive…" trailing off, I decided it wasn't worth complaining about anyway, for there were other matters at hand, like how will I manage to go to work tomorrow, where Tsunade and Shizune are, anyway, and how will I find a new sex sla-er…boyfriend. Reaching the door to the Chinese restaurant, I stutter a "Hello." To the owner of the restaurant and start climbing up the rotten heavy oak stairs, toward the one bedroom apartment that the 3 of us have lived in for god-knows how long.
I reach the top step with a loud thud and land on my back, hard, and wait for either Tsunade or Shizune to hear me outside the door and come drag me in. Five minutes later, there is the sound of scuffing feet and the door swings open, exposing Tsunade, still in her nursing dress the three of us were much too familiar with. She smirks lightly, honey blonde hair falling in her face and hands me a Pabst Blue Ribbon while saying, "What the fuck, Sakura?"