Drabble 2
Generally, she was the type to like a lot of things and dislike minimally. But sometimes, she wonders what it would be like to give a day to herself of out-of-character-ness and see if she could set a fuse. She'd pay a lot to set him off and to test her precious-ness, so to say. She was cunning like that, but still sweet. Still oh-so-sweet.
Hence the reason Haruno Sakura why didn't- supposedly didn't like a lot of things at this moment. She could list them off and run out of fingers to count with- it's that much.
First off, Sakura did not like being treated like a child.
She didn't like being treated like she could not take care of herself even if she was fully competent of doing so. She didn't like the feeling of incapability whenever they beat them by being fully capable and apparently flaunting it. She didn't like the way they tried to protect her against even trivial things. She didn't like the way they tried to protect her against big things, too.
She hated how she was treated like a naïve, innocent flower that was as frail as her namesake's.
And that was exactly why she appeared in her childhood best friend/ crush Sasuke's birthday with her face caked in gorgeous make-up, wearing a tube top that threatened to burst at any moment, a skirt 6 inches shorter and heels 3 inches higher.
Naruto gaped like a floundering fish; Neji, the educated man, choked on his water with as much dignity as he could muster; Shikamaru, the drunken genius, wondered if he was having a wet dream at the moment and that he was actually still sleeping, Sai, the appreciative artist, found himself a new inspiration on human emotions as he studied her form with an artistic admiration and lastly, Sasuke -never forget perfect Sasuke- took all control he could muster not to march up and beat the crap out of them.
She idly saw her friends cheering from her peripheral vision before she got dragged by Sasuke into the hallway, eyes flashing crimson anger.
"What," he bit out, fingers tightening around her wrist. She winced in pain, eyes imploring him to release the hurtful hold. He ignored her, and continued to prod, "are you wearing?"
.
.
Sakura flipped her hair in what she thought was awfully grown-up, like what Ino would do. Then, putting on Temari's haughty sexy sarcasm, she said, "I am wearing what I'd like to call clothes. Like yours, as you could see."
Taking a deep breath through his teeth, he pulled Sakura closer so that he could deliver a direct glare at her sparkling orbs. "You call those clothes, Sa-ku-ra?"
"I am heavily offended, Sasuke. Whatever do you mean by that?" she said haughtily, placing her hands on her hips. Sasuke didn't fail to notice how that mere movement made her curves more prominent.
He didn't reply, eyes trained and focused.
"Up here, birthday boy. Eyes up, please." Sakura said, rolling her eyes and clapping her hands to get his undivided attention. "Seriously, Sasuke, keep your hormones in check 'cause- mmph!"
Let's just say that those 'clothes' met the epitome of not-clothes on the floor.
Ear-devise: Catcher!
"Seriously, Sasuke, Ino's gonna kill you for that. She loved that top too!"
"Hn. I don't care."
"It made me look good too! You know, like, utterly gorgeous and sexy."
"I. Don't. Care. Besides, it looked better on my floor anyway."
"Touché."