Disclaimer: Naruto is not mine.
Sasuke was not a poet.
He never understood the appeal of flowery and exaggerated words. He liked blunt. He liked straight to the point.
He grimaced at people who would throw sweet nothings to each other, giving out empty promises and frilly conundrums. He tried to fathom why they would waste time with something as trivial as words laced with lies just to impress one another.
But he started to understand once he locked eyes with her.
When he met her, his world turned upside down, and it felt like his heart was in his throat, because he found that he couldn't breathe, because once he did, he would smell the lavender scent she always carried, and he was scared, afraid, frightened beyond words, that he would decide that he'd like it.
When she smiled at him, he saw a ray of light shining upon her pale and flawless face, her opal eyes looking into the very depths of his tainted soul, and he could not help but stare, because perhaps he could also peer into hers, and he could maybe see the purity and innocence. He wanted her very image burned painfully, permanently into his mind.
When she said his name with such sincerity and raw emotion, waves upon clashing waves of feelings and sensations filled his very core, and he cannot help but desperately cling onto her words, afraid that he might never hear her again, because he realizes, he knows that every single day, he falls further and further into the depths of her eyes, the silkiness of her hair, the softness in her voice, and he keeps on breaking into pieces. He doesn't mind.
But when she says those three words, he feels nothing.
Because words can never truly describe the emotion he feels when he feels everything and nothing, when he feels both light and dark, both yin and yang, and soulmates, and the universe, and destiny, and the alpha and the omega. He feels the heat of a thousand suns and the chill of the everlasting winter; he is soaked while in the sun, and dry while in the rain.
When he sees the red string of fate on both of their pinkies, he smiles when she looks at him confusedly, because wasn't her eyes supposed to be all-seeing?
So he says those three words back to her, feeling inadequate, feeling incomplete, because it sounded as if it wasn't good enough, as if the words could never compare to the chaos brewing within him. But he settles for it anyway.
Sasuke was not a poet, because his actions always told more.
He kisses her, and he knows that he has found his sunny place.
I would like to thank umnia, damnheart.o3, RikuDai, Neon Renaissance, MirukoUchiha, and Renoa Heartilly for sparing their time to drop in a review and for letting me know what they thought of the previous oneshot I wrote. Thank you so much!