When he woke up, everything felt different. His back felt amazing, for one. He clearly wasn't on the ground anymore. He felt himself blink with his eyes still shut, and held back a yawn as he felt his limbs lift and look for something, any sign that could indicate where the hell he was. He knew he wasn't home, because if he was, the feeling of dullness would surpass him and he wouldn't even bother waking up for the sake of avoiding boredom. But for some reason, he had a feeling that this place felt familiar. It smelled too sweet—not like candy (Which he detests for their sugary taste), but like nature, so natural, so green, so fresh—and he wasn't sure what to take out of it. When he did open his eyes, his left was greeted with his location, and his right was, well, covered. And he wondered why for a moment, why he was blind in one eye, but wasn't it the other, but suddenly the events of earlier came rushing to his mind and he was greeted with a massive headache.
Right. He got beaten the shit out of him by no one other than Inuzuka Kiba. How did he nearly forget that? And he noticed the torn-up library book pages on the wall and the band posters and the light coming from the blinds, the darkness enveloping the rest of the room. He was at the Hyuuga manor still. He looked down, and noticed he wasn't in his dirty clothing, but in different clothes. Corduroy brown jeans, which fit just as good as his regular jeans, and a regular beige shirt. It was just a normal and simple outfit, and he couldn't deny that he liked it, but it still confused him how as to how he retained them.
He turned his body, and regretted it instantly as it felt like he was being pierced with pain. He was usually capable of tolerating such sharpness whenever he did anything physical, but it was more so the bruises that were bound to be prevalent for a few weeks courtesy of Kiba. But god was her bed so comfy. It only lacked her with him at this point, and if she was, then maybe it wouldn't be so bad being in this uncomfortable predicament. If she was with him, I mean. He sat up, disregarding the pain he felt, and turned his head slightly, looking for a mirror of some sort, to see if he could see the overall damage—because after all, he was bound to have to confront his family and explain what happened at some point, and it was clearly too late for him to head home looking like that anyways—and once he got up and found it, he had to hold back his laughter.
His entire right side of his face was covered (Poorly, mind you), his lip was busted but clearly not bleeding anymore, there were little to no dirt stains on his face (Someone must've washed it, he could only assume), and his nose had two Band-Aids on it. Holding back a grunt, he decided to take off all the tape off his right side, deciding he'd probably tolerate looking stupid with an eye shut over looking like some cheap-ass mummy, and dumped the tape into the nearby trash bin.
"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" There was really no way to put how amused he was by the look she gave him when he turned around and saw her rubbing her right eye, her body still in a ball because she was curled into one on her sofa. She let him rest on her bed and took the next best thing for him. He couldn't control the smirk that was bound to cross his face at that sudden realization.
"I looked stupid." He stated simply. "Cute pajamas." He added sarcastically. Okay, he was an asshole, and this was his own way of displaying affection—by insulting everything about her whenever given the chance. Luckily she didn't read much into it but was assured by his smirk that he was only half-joking. That little blush tinted her already rosy cheeks even more. Her pajamas shorts framed her thighs perfectly, a tank top with a bunny on it outlining her flat stomach as well.
"You're supposed to be s-sleeping," She yawned. "It's two in the morning. You can go home later."
He thought about it. Briefly. Because he was in fact exhausted still, but there wouldn't be any fun if he did right now. No. He was going to drag this for a bit. She owed him, and he wasn't going to let that slide.
He made his way to her and dragged her by the arm to the bed. They both plopped on it, and it felt so casual, and yet his heart was racing, and his mind was just filled with ludicrous thoughts that varied from spooning to other things he was free to do but she looked so nervous and confident all at the same time. The look in her eyes was of defeat, almost, but her smile totally contradicted it.
There was really no getting past her stare. He couldn't figure out just why she was going along with everything. It was practically out of her nature to go against what someone says, and he knew this, but he at least wanted her to fight back or something, not be so damn submissive.
Although, being at his whim wasn't an all that bad thing…
He was really at lack for words. Because even though his vision was currently half impaired, and even though he was exhausted as hell, and even though she clearly was just as tired if not more so, and that her hair was in a bun on top of her head, with some strands sticking out and her bangs framing her face, the light that was being drawn in from her curtains from the moon really captured everything he enjoyed about her.
And it truly felt like he could wake up to such a sight every morning or evening or at any hour altogether.
But here he was, struggling to do something. He didn't want to mess anything up, but he was tired of this uncertainty. Did he have permission to really do anything? He didn't want it to be one-sided, or worse, to be pitied. Actually, either or sounded equally sick to him. He would prefer to avoid both.
He had to swallow the lump in his throat. He was nervous, and he could acknowledge that, but he wouldn't admit it. The way her eyes glowed and the way her lashes made them look so much bigger, and the way she was fiddling with her fingers, as if he didn't notice, but he did, and he felt it a bit harder to breathe, and he blamed himself for feeling so weak and pathetic because he just was not used to being the one pursuing someone.
And he had no idea how he'd take rejection. Being one that always was the one rejecting, he didn't know how it'd withstand her not wanting anything further with him. And he feared how he'd react afterwards. Would he still want her in his life? No, probably not. He'd try to push her away, just as he usually did to most females, especially because he'd feel as though she was purposely flaunting everything he adored about him to get him to like her and if she had done it solely for attention and without wanting anything with him he-
'Relax.'
He had to. He had to stop assuming the worst. He felt as though he was going to combust. Should he tell her? Should he tell her that he found her absolutely beautiful right now? That he felt stupid for thinking that? That he blamed her for it? Should he really even blame her for anything?
Breathe in, breathe out. She looked confused now. One of her eyebrows rose, as if awaiting or him to say something, to just do anything.
"Sasuke, are you alright?"
He sucked in the air and let it out through his nostrils. "Hn." He regained his composure, and still he struggled to find the right words. He was so irritated at this point. At himself, mainly. For being a coward. There was no possible way she'd reject him, he kept reminding himself that, only because she, too probably had no idea how to approach something like this either.
But now was the most perfect time he had. He had her all to himself. He was in the comfort of her room, the door evidently locked, in darkness, no one was awake (Or so he had assumed), and there was really nothing he had to lose.
But could he tolerate losing her to someone else if he didn't bring it up? Like, to Kiba? The thought made his stomach churn. It didn't matter that they had been friends for a bit, Kiba and her had history, not dating wise but it was still there. There was more of a chance that he'd bring it up if he didn't right now. And she even gave him this look of anticipation, as if awaiting something, but maybe he was giving her too much credit—she was pretty slow and naïve, after all.
He casually brought his right hand to frame her cheek, and take it between his fingers, and squeezed the flesh softly, and noted that her eyes traced his very movement, and that she wasn't giving him direct eye contact, and so with his other he lifted her chin, and her gaze fixated into his, because she had no other choice, and she was biting her lip, unsure of what was going to happen next.
"I need to ask you something." He wanted to phrase it like a question but it came out like a bitter command, so in all she had no other choice, really. She nodded with consent.
"I don't know how to explain it," He was on the edge, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to let her face go. She looked like a blowup fish in his palms, and he couldn't help but hold back a sly grin at it.
"Well, t-try," She urged. "I'll listen."
"I know you will." She could never ignore anyone, she was too much of a good listener and good person to just stop.
"What does it have to do with?" Her cheeks were flaming, and he adjusted his fingers to just trace her jawline.
"You," He sighed. "…and me."
"Do you not want to be my f-friend anymore?"
He felt it a bit harder to breathe upon hearing those words, mainly because she was assuming the worst, that he didn't want her in his life altogether.
He looked at her with a grin and laughed a bit. He wanted this to be as smooth as possible. Given, it was awkward as it is, but with her looking so confused and well, nervous, he wanted to make himself appear less of that and the only way to do that was to fluster her even more. "You're right, I don't," He said. "I don't want to be your friend anymore."
She was chewing on her lip again. Her eyes narrowed, rimmed with tears that were in the process of sliding down her cheeks. "You're lying."
"Yeah."
"Then tell me already. The t-truth, I mean."
For once, she just wasn't gullible. And it was quite adorable that she seemed so anxious.
He sighed. "It's hard for me to put it to words."
He felt as though 'Would you be my girlfriend or else I'll kill myself' seemed way too blunt and well, insane. That was only a half-joke, too. Really, she was incredible. He wouldn't want her to be with anyone but him. But for some reason, Uchiha Sasuke was not at all prepared to be so sappy.
"Then…show me." She challenged, that permanent blush staining her cheeks.
"Show you?"
"You don't h-have to use words if you can't. I understand." She was leaning in, a small smile gracing her lips.
Being bold, he brought his hand back to her right cheek. His thumb traced her soft skin, her scent being the only thing he could smell, the proximity being so close, and he only wanted to be closer, and eventually he brought his forehead against hers, and her eyes were tightly shut, the crinkles visible at both corners of her eyes, and she's trembling in anticipation, licking her lips instinctively, and he had never felt so powerless, so weak, knowing that it was up to him for anything to work. He had never felt like such a weight was pounding against his spine to lean closer and to turn his head accordingly to press his lips against hers.
This was what he did to her. And everything happened so damn fast.
Aside from the simple kiss her mouth parted enough for his tongue to dart into her mouth, to meet hers, to explore it, and his hands just couldn't stop moving everywhere and anywhere. They rested on her arms, and slid down to her waist, her hips, and soon enough it didn't matter because he had pushed her against her mattress so that he was just on top of her, kissing her senseless, giving it all he had, losing his grip because he just wanted her to feel what he felt.
The way her fingers latched onto his head, the way he kept whispering the lovely things he couldn't say earlier, against her throat, her ears, how his legs pinned her down and he just couldn't stop taking her all in.
His ears were ringing from the low, soft pants she was releasing, his hand was exploring her stomach beneath her shirt, his kisses traveling down to her collarbones, his teeth taking the skin in and tugging it softly, the way she was biting her lip down to prevent from screaming.
He didn't even have any idea that she was capable of that, but it only was another thing to add onto the list of things he loved about her.
And before it could progress even further than it already had, he paused and stared down as she fluttered her eyes open and greeted him with a smile.
He didn't have to say anything as she brought him close with her arms and kissed him again, that smile still in place, and she tugged the covers over them both, and latched her arms around him, and mumbled a "Yes."
He didn't have anything else to say, because there wasn't a need. She understood. And he knew she would. Deep down, he knew that she understood him more than anyone else could.
"I don't owe you anymore kisses." She giggled as he continued to bury his nose into his neck.
They were just laying there, enjoying each other's company, absorbing the warmth radiating from their bodies. It was still late, silent, and tolerable. He was always a fan of silence, but now he was well-accompanied with it. Now, he could share it. He could share the things he enjoyed with her now, without fearing the worst.
Because now, he could open up a bit more to the only other person worthy of being permitted in. And it seemed like she was going to do the same.
"One more," He begged childishly, which only caused her to laugh even harder, although at minimal volume to avoid anyone from waking up and storming in to disrupt their session.
"Not even a p-please?"
"Please." Some nerve she had, honestly. He needed permission to get a kiss from his girlfriend? That title still sounded sour whenever he thought about it, and the thought of saying it out loud would be even worse. He'd look into other terms later. For now, he could just get used to being in her company. Right now, he was just desperate for more contact with her lips because he was basically addicted to her touch at this point.
Which, while pathetic, made sense. Because everything about her was addicting, and there was no way in hell someone could just assume otherwise.
To him, she was utterly perfect. And he didn't have to say anything because she could just tell from everything he had done for her told enough more than words ever could.
"Fine," She mumbled, her cheeks burning, because she was just not used to being begged, especially for something as trivial as that.
She turned her body to face his, and quickly pecked his lips.
"There-"
And then he kissed her again, and again, and again.
"You said only o-one!"
"I lied."
"Liar." She laughed.
"As if you didn't enjoy it." He sneered. She was just so cute. And his. He still couldn't wrap his head around it all. It was surreal.
She kissed him again. "Not at all."
A/N: I guess you all hate me for not updating in forever. A lot of shit has happened to me and in short, the best thing that ever happened to me terminated and while it's been two months since it all crumbled down, I am still not over it. I'm trying, though. This hiatus I took was more for my sanity, if you will. I tend to always abandon my fics and I never mean to, I swear. I promise to update sooner, probably within the next two~three weeks span, depending on how many reviews I am graced with for this one. It's been tough living lately, and I apologize for leaving y'all with a cliffhanger or some sort.
