Author's Note

Alright, I promised you guys a oneshot, and so I shall deliver. Originally, I was going to make a different story (It's called Kamen, check it out when I eventually decide to post it) the oneshot, but it somehow ended up becoming a whole ass story. Damn imagination, taking over like that. I couldn't disappoint you guys by not posting something though; that would just be mean of me. I came up with the idea based on my own experience with my apartment and my neighbors. I don't have any cute ones or had any intense sexual experiences with them, unfortunately, but they're always driving me crazy so that works!

Anyway, I had originally tried to post this on Valentines Day, but clearly that didn't work out either. But I mean, a few days late is better than never, right?

So yeah, I hope you guys enjoy my little gift to you! Happy late Valentines Day!


Just Tonight


Characters/Pairing: [Shisui X Sakura]; Deidara
Genre: Romance; Friendship
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong language and mature sexual content
Summary: She couldn't stand him because he always had people over, and they made a mess of the stairwell; because he liked blaring his music and arguing with his bed mates when she wanted to relax. He broke her flower pots and stole her parking space, and liked to walk around without a shirt, and thought it was funny to chide her for leaving her laundry in the dryer—and he still had the nerve to smirk at her in that maddening way of his. As for Shisui, he wouldn't say that he intentionally went out of his way to make sure he annoyed his short, pink haired neighbor, because he wasn't that type of person—most of the time.


Just Tonight


We spin the bottle till we're kissing our cups—felt like I'd die for you.

Sakura bobbed her head along with the percussion of the drums, her fingers drumming against her steering wheel and her lips singing along, carefully scanning the street as she turned onto the next corner. The heater hummed against her skin in an attempt at alleviating the unforgiving bite of mid-winter that somehow seeped into her skin despite the leather jacket wrapped around her. As the chorus kicked in, she bounced lightly in her seat in time with the song—I don't wanna live for nothing, just wanna be something, I never knew we'd be more than friends.

She rolled to a stop at the light, continuing to belt out the lyrics and dancing in her seat as she patiently waited for the light to change. She glanced at the clock on her dashboard—10:52 PM—and let out a soft sigh. She got home a little later than she expected, as her shift ran a little longer than she would've liked. She calculated that if she spent half an hour in the shower and about an hour to cook and eat and prep tomorrow's lunch, she would get around six hours of sleep which, while better than the four hours last night, still wasn't enough. Sakura huffed. She really hated opening the day after closing, and she would've called out the next day but the retail outlet she managed was short staffed as is, and she would've felt bad dragging someone else away from their plans just so she could sleep in. Plus, what kind of example would she be setting for her staff if she did that?

When the streetlight turned green, Sakura accelerated forward down the slight hill, still singing—Come let me up. Can you hear me now? Come let me up—as the darkness of the freeway eased into gas station lighting and parking lot lamps. She had been lucky when she found her apartment two years ago; it was right next door to two relatively reasonably priced gas stations and had a shopping plaza that had a grocery store, a drug store and a few restaurants right across the intersection. And while the price was a little up there for her tastes, it was actually considered cheap compared to the other units around the area. For two-thousand nine-hundred and ninety-five dollars a month, she had a decent sized apartment in a nice area, with a pool, a hot tub, something resembling a gym, her own parking spot and two laundry rooms. Other places wanted much more for much less. She just had to work her ass off and go out less, and thank whatever Gods were out there that she happened to move in during a low-demand time of year.

Passing the gas station, Sakura turned into the driveway, preparing to turn into her stall only to find a huge, white pickup truck in her spot. "God damn it, Shisui," She groaned, dropping her head onto her steering wheel. Pulling her phone from her back pocket, she quickly searched through her contacts until she found her neighbor's phone number and put the call to speaker. She counted the amount of times it rang, growing more and more frustrated with each additional ring, until she was put through to his voicemail. She hung up then pulled up her messenger.

Kakashi is in my parking space.

She waited a moment, shutting the engine of her car off, hoping that maybe, just fucking maybe, her headache of a neighbor would quit being an annoyance just this once. The song blaring though her speakers changed into another one—Baby I'm sick inside, I'm definitely out of my mind—taking on an angrier tone than the previous one, as if to match her growing mood. This wasn't the first time her next door neighbor or his friends pulled a stunt like this. She really didn't mind them parking when she was gone or during the day, but normal, considerate people would've moved their car when the spot's owner called to move it or when they knew she was due to he home at a certain time. Then again, this was Shisui.

The thirty-four year old bachelor had been living in the apartment to the right of hers before she moved in. Her apartment manager, Tsunade, had remarked that Shisui was a model neighbor when she first moved in. She said he always paid rent on time, liked to stop in and chat with her in the leasing office, and generally got along well with the other tenants of the complex. But then again, she had also said that Shisui was "attractive as hell and had a lot of friends". She should've understood the implication behind the statement, but she didn't. He was nice enough, she had to admit. He was always talking with someone whenever she saw him, whether it be the mailman or the the downstairs tenant, or someone from another building. And he certainly was handsome. He had inky black hair that was always intentionally disheveled, and a boyish face that had just a hint of stubble in regards to his age. His onyx eyes had an attractive, mischievous slant to them and were framed by enviously long lashes, and always seemed to be undressing whatever female happened to be in his vicinity. He was built well too, with a good amount of muscles and a broad chest and slender waist. He also had a pretty impressive tattoo that stretched across his forearm of what she figured was either a crow or a raven.

That said, he was one of (if not the) most vexing, feather-ruffling men she had ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Not only did he hog her parking space, but he watched horror movies at 3 AM with the volume as high as possible, so she could hear his TV through the walls. And he had people over all hours of the night, grilling on the balcony and blasting his music when she was trying to sleep. She swore that he must've pushed his speakers directly against their shared wall just to piss her off. If he happened to be out on his patio or by the stairs when she came in with Deidara, he and his friends would humiliate her with whistles and cheers every single time without fail, announcing to the whole complex that the two would be getting it on. Not only that, but he rough housed with his guests when he drank too much, resulting in the death of one of her outdoor plants, and he even dropped a bucket of water on her once. He claimed it was an accident, that he thought she was his younger cousin when she passed under his balcony, but she wasn't so sure how much of that statement she was willing to entertain. One time, one of his friends even threw up all over her front door and into one of her plants! And that was just the beginning of a long list of grievances she had against him.

Once the song reached the second verse, Sakura tried to call him again, but was put through to voicemail for the second time. Growling, she sent him another text.

Hello? Tell your friends to get out of my spot!

When she still hadn't received a response by the time the song ended, Sakura openly began spewing curses while she backed out of the driveway. She could've called the tow company listed on the sign by the entrance to have the vehicle removed, but part of Sakura didn't want to be that person. After having her car towed once, and paying eight-hundred and fifty dollars to get it back, she didn't want to put anyone through that. She twisted her wheel to the right, continuing down the road, past the full additional parking lot and circled the block, praying to whatever gods that were looking upon her to show mercy. At this time of night, it was next to impossible to find parking out on the street, unless one was willing to walk a good three or four blocks, but let's be honest: she was not doing that. Four more songs spewed from her speakers before she finally gave up and drove to the shopping plaza down the block. She technically wasn't supposed to park there overnight, but as long as she got up by 4:30 to move it into her spot, she would be fine. Finding a spot beside some other cars that she recognized as belonging to a few other other neighbors, Sakura made sure to set an alarm on her phone, gathered her purse and hid her phone cable in the center console, then hurried off into the night.

With her arms wrapped tightly to her body, Sakura jogged across the street, loudly chattering her teeth as the air smacked her in mirth. The heels of her boots echoed as she rushed past the gas station and past the first two buildings of the complex; finally reaching the same driveway, Sakura turned past the front building followed the pathway to her apartment. The buildings were set in clusters of four, with two units on each floor, and a total of fifty units in the whole complex. Hers happened to be the one at the very end of the property, tucked up against the sliver of woods that separated her street from the freeway. She loved the privacy it offered, but at the same time, hated it because it meant her wonderful neighbor took advantage of it every chance he could. He had friends over all the time, barbecuing on the patio and drinking on the stairs, bringing girls home at ungodly hours of the night. Seeing as how their building only had one other occupant, who happened to be best friends with Shisui and always joined him in their little parties, Sakura found herself alone in being bothered most of the time. Thankfully, after more than a few confrontations (in which she stormed into his apartment threatening to call the cops and complain to Tsunade), they settled on an unspoken agreement that he could have whoever the hell he wanted over so long as the louder get-togethers happened on the weekends and they kept the beer cans off the stairs.

Arriving at the stairs, Sakura found herself frowning as a few men sat on the narrow stairway leading her apartment. They were in the midst of a conversation, guffawing and slurring over half empty beer bottles as if it wasn't nearly midnight, while a few other guests were out on the patio smoking. Now even more miffed, Sakura stomped her way up the stairs, ignoring the men as they shifted out of her way and snickered about whatever it was they were going on about. Reaching the top, Sakura ignored the voice in her head that insisted she kick the asshole's door down and beat some sense into him, opting to just skip dinner and go straight to bed.

"G'night Sakura," One of the men at the doorway next to her greeted, raising his beer towards her.

She offered the brunette a tired smile. As much as she couldn't stand her neighbor, at least most of his guests were nice. "Good night Izumo."

As soon as she stepped into the warmth of her apartment, Sakura let out one hell of a sigh, unceremoniously kicking her boots off into the pile of shoes in the corner. Her cat preened from the living room, peering around the corner of the hallway to greet her. Sakura scooped the grey long-haired cat into her arms cooing at the feline as it purred and bumped it's head against her cheek. "Hi Willow," She cooed, bouncing the cat as if it were a baby. She pried open the last cabinet in her small kitchen, where she kept her pet's supplies, and removed a tin of food whilst balancing the cat in her other mewled in delight at the sight and leapt from her owner's arms to meet her by the food bowl. Sakura peeled the tin open and scooped the meaty chunks into the bowl, mixing it with the remaining kibbles, then trashed the can. On autopilot now, Sakura made her way to her bedroom and dropped face down onto her bed with a loud, exhausted groan. Since she had to get up early to get her car, she figured she might as well just called it a night and shower and prep lunch in the morning. Too tired to even bother changing out of her clothes, Sakura removed her name badge, dropped it to the carpet then crawled further into her bed, sure to tuck herself snugly into her blankets.


Just Tonight


"Oh Shisui—!"

The sound of something hitting the wall stirred Sakura from her already weak slumber. She glanced at the time on her phone—2:09 AM—then let out an frustrated groan before rolling back over, pulling the covers over her head in an attempt at drowning out the noises coming from next door.
There was another thump, aroused laughter, another moan.

"Shi—Shisui!"

"Ah fuck."

With cheeks aflame, either in fluster or embarrassment she wasn't sure, Sakura knocked (or rather, pounded) her fist on the wall right above her head. Allowing her hand to fall back down to cover her blushing face, Sakura bit at her cheek to keep from screaming out when a mirthful "Sorry!" responded to her. Silence followed, although she knew better than to believe her neighbor's activities had died down at all; still, she let out a soft sigh and turned onto her side with her sheets pulled up to her chin.

This wasn't the first time she had ever woken up to the pleasured, wanton moaning on the other side of the wall, and she knew this wouldn't be the last. Shisui was handsome as hell, just like Tsunade claimed, and was a massive flirt even with her, so it wasn't too surprising to know that he constantly had a female in his apartment. But he had been pretty discreet about his goings on up until about a month or so after she had moved in. She ignored the first few nights that she noticed that the moans of her neighbor's bed partner had wafted through the walls; she figured he wasn't used to having a neighbor close enough to hear him yet. But she didn't meet his eyes when he greeted her in passing and blushed slightly when he conversed with her over something that she didn't really listen to. But once she had settled in a bit and had been woken up at ungodly hours of the night for the umpteenth time, Sakura finally politely brought it up with him. He had apologized almost instantly but didn't actually seem very apologetic if she really dissected the conversation. In fact, he had a little bit of a smirk on his face. But after that he did take care to at least try to be quieter when he brought a woman home, at least for a little while. After a few weeks of much quieter, less sleep-disrupting sex, Shisui seemed to have forgotten his promise to tone down the porn-worthy screaming of his partners.

But like a good neighbor, she ignored it, at least for the most part. Every now and then she brought it up, lightly, because she really didn't want to come off as that one nagging neighbor, but there was only so much of his chuckled apologies she could take.

The next time she had actually confronted him about it, rather than just mumbling her displeasure to him, she wasn't in as good of a mood as she was the first time. She and her current boyfriend, Deidara, had gotten into one hell of a fight that night. She had, had a long day at work and her boyfriend at the time, Idate, just didn't seem to understand why she was so against going out with him and his friends. They had planned to spend their night together, like a date, where they would have dinner at their favorite restaurant and go bowling before heading back to her place for a roll around in the sheets. That was all she wanted. And she had spent hours preparing her place for his stay. But instead, he invited a bunch of his friends to join them on their supposed date, and got drunk and chatted with every single person in the bar they ended up at instead of her. Not only that, but she ended up ubering home. Alone. She left him with his friends after arguing in the parking lot, and wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep and cry.

And as usual, Shisui had his friends over. They were rowdier back then, messier and less inclined to keep their crumpled up beer cans out of her doorstep. She was going to let it go, as exhausted as she was, and planned on pulling him aside the next time she had the chance but that changed the moment she felt her bed shiver against the wall. And just like she did a few moments ago, she banged on the wall, and he banged back. The next thing she knew, she had thrown her front door open, pushed past the men that stood around his opened front door and made her way into his apartment.

A few of the drunker idiots in the room tried talking to her. Intoxicated women giggled and tried to get her to dance. A few smarter ones tried to calm her down with offerings of shots. She ignored them all and went straight to his bedroom and banged on the door, demanding Shisui come out. And he did. He cracked opened the door to his bedroom with an irked expression on his face and boxers wrapped tightly around his hips, but his expression had morphed into one of shock. At least, until she started screaming at him. She didn't care that other people were watching her let loose her frustration on him, or that he was essentially naked and had a fully nude woman watching her from his bed. She was just so fucking tired and angry. He argued back, telling her that he didn't complain when she fucked her boyfriend at 6 AM, and that he could've talked to him about it in the morning "like a normal fucking person". At that, she was fuming. She stormed out of the apartment, ignoring the looks some of the sobering guests had given her, and locked herself up in her home. Sure enough, Shisui continued what he was doing with the nameless blonde in his bedroom, but was much quieter about it that night.

For about a week after that, they ignored one another. No nods when they passed each other outside. No waves when they saw one another on their balconies. But they eventually buried the hatchet one Sunday after all that. He invited her and Idate over to his place for a barbecue in celebration of their city's football team. They attended, they chatted, shared a few drinks and it was silently decided it wasn't that hard to be civil. She even apologized for barging into his place, and he just laughed it off, apologizing himself for being so inconsiderate. He tried being more mindful when he brought women home, often quieting down whenever she'd knock on the wall and even apologizing when she had to knock more than once. But even then there was an underlying mirth to his apologies.

At least the otherwise inconsiderate jerk did that.

Sighing to herself yet again, Sakura closed her eyes and let herself drift to sleep, easily ignoring the hardly-there grunts from beyond the wall.


Just Tonight


Sakura stared almost blankly at the washing machine, watching the suds glittering against the glass as her clothes tumbled around the inside. She was so damn tired that it wasn't even funny. Her whole shift seemed to drag on for hours and hours, with her only consolation being that it ended at 2 pm. But just because her shift ended early, didn't mean her day did. She had to stop by the post office, and pick up some groceries, do her laundry and pay a few bills. Not to mention her kitchen was a mess. She had to at least clean that before Deidara arrived.

A smile overcame her expression as she thought about her boyfriend. He stopped by her work earlier, telling her he would be coming by for dinner to collect on his rain check from the other night when he fell asleep. She brushed him off, knowing he didn't at all believe she really was upset, and he had left her with a rather heated promise of visiting after his own shift ended. She nearly shuddered at the memory of his breathless promise on her shoulder, of his hands beneath her dress while she splayed her legs over his lap in the surprisingly spacious backseat of his truck.

The opening of the laundry room door stirred her attention, immediately cooling away her hot imprints of her boyfriend's hands; she shifted back into a casual position and pulled up her cellphone. Glancing up at who was in the room, she offered her neighbor a nod and polite smile; Shisui did the same, moving to one of the empty washers with his hamper propped against his side. Sakura ignored him for the most part, searching through her pinterest board for recipes to try out for tonight, and he did the same but with the commentary of whatever sport he was listening to playing through his phone speakers. Without meaning to, Sakura lifted her gaze from her phone screen just in time to see Shisui tug his shirt over his head. She watched the muscles of his back ripple with the movement, taking in the lightly tanned skin that prickled slightly upon exposure, until finally he pulled the shirt over his head. He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair to fix the disheveled inky locks, then threw his shirt into the washer with the rest of his clothing.

Sakura immediately tore her eyes away from him and back to her phone.

She hated it when he did that. She had learned early into her tenancy that he liked walking around without a shirt, whether it be on his balcony or in the laundry room, and almost always shed his shirt when doing laundry. She assumed that he liked to flaunt his body (and she could honestly say that he had every right to), but she had a feeling that he just really liked putting on a fresh shirt straight out the dryer. And as much as Sakura refused to admit it, she would be lying if she said she didn't sneak a peak at him whenever he stripped like that. He did look good in just those gray sweatpants.

The slamming of the washer door abruptly pulled her from her thoughts, snapping at her to go back to her recipes, but she found herself distracted again. Shisui bent at the waist in front of another washer, stuffing his black and gray sheets into them, still not paying attention to her (not that she wanted him to), when something fell out of the crumpled bed sheets. He must not have noticed the bright red scrap of fabric, so she called out to him, "You dropped something."

He looked down, pulling the sheet upwards so he could see whatever it was that fell beneath it; then he let out a chuckle and crouched to pick it up. Sakura admired the full plane of his back from her position atop the folding table, getting just a glimpse of the tail end of the tattoo and appreciated the way his muscles flexed. A blush spread over her neck and shoulders as she watched Shisui collect what happened to be a red and black thong—the reason for his little laugh—from the floor then toss it into his first washer. From this angle and with his choice of pants, she could see the curve of his form, and her blush intensified when she swore the front of his sweatpants twitched. Furious and perhaps just a little mortified, Sakura forced herself to stare back down at her phone and ignore the man who now sat on the opposite end of the folding table.

God, she couldn't stand him.

"Hey Sakura." She tried to glance at him from the corner of her eye and keep her view of him from his waist-up. If her blush was still in place, she prayed Shisui didn't notice. Thankfully, he seemed more focused on whatever game was playing on his phone screen, since he hardly looked in her direction when he asked, "Wanna come over tonight? We're barbecuing."

You're always barbecuing.

Rain or shine, weekend or weekday, her neighbor would grill out on the balcony. Being the friendly, charismatic social butterfly that he was, he always invited just about anyone who was near him to come over, or would send them off with a tinfoil-covered plate, even her. Although, Sakura suspected that he only ever invited her as a way of apologizing for aggravating the shit out of him, since she found out the hard way that some of his "friendly offerings" were more than a little too spicy for her tastes. She had been to a few of his little parties, including the time she and her ex had come over for that one football game, but she wasn't really too into his scene. So shaking her head and returning to her recipes, Sakura replied, "No sorry. Deidara is coming over for dinner."

He shrugged and leant back against the wall, nearly laying across the countertop, his eyes not ever leaving his video. "Aa. If you guys want actual good food, you're welcome to come over."

Ignoring his uneducated jab at her cooking, she thanked him, now focused on the instructions for a beef and broccoli stir fry she had wanted to try out. They regarded one another in silence, both in-tune to their own devices, with Sakura being the first to break it when her washer shut off a few minutes later. Picking up her hamper, she scooped her wet clothes into the plastic bin, positioned it against her hip, then crossed the room to get to the dyers by the entrance. As much as she couldn't stand Shisui, she liked these rare moments of peace between them. They were few and far between, usually only lasting a few minutes, but she appreciated him in these calm, quiet moments.

"Hey Sakura." She hummed in response, turning to look back at Shisui to find him bearing a large, almost lecherous smirk. In his hand, he held one of her sexier, transparent lace bras by the strap. This one in particular had black straps that wrapped around the waist as well as some that wrapped around her neck, and the cups were made of mesh with lace roses as the only form of covering. "You dropped something."

God, just kill me already.

Snatching the lingerie from his grasp, Sakura tossed the lacy article into one of the dryers, also biting her cheek to keep from spewing a month's worth of stress in the form of curses at him. The blush on her face was strictly born from anger now. Creased up at the abashed redness that lit up Sakura's skin, Shisui held his palms up in a surrendering gesture, although his twitching lips betrayed his sentiment. "Hey now, don't be embarrassed," He teased. "Although I can't really picture you wearing something like this. Maybe you should put it on so I can get a better picture?"

Canting her head to the side and pursing her lips in a show of annoyance, Sakura barked, "Piss off Shisui."

Focusing on throwing all her laundry into all eight dryers (spitefully, so he couldn't use one) and grumbling about the perverted glimmer in his eyes, she hadn't noticed that Shisui had approached her until he planted his hand on a dryer in front of her. She stilled upon seeing his hand, or rather, at feeling him leaning over her, just barely brushing her shoulder with his chest. Turning so she faced him, Sakura cocked her hip out cheekily and folded her arms. "Shisui—"

"When are you just going to admit you want me?" He asked, that infuriating smirk still in place. How many times had he asked her that over the years? She couldn't remember. How many times did she come close to socking him in the jaw? Almost as many times, if not more.

Ducking under his arm and scooping her hamper up all in one movement, Sakura scoffed. "In your dreams."


Just Tonight


Hey sorry, I fell asleep and just woke up. Are you still awake?
December 16th, 2019; 1:42 AM

Ino read the text aloud for what had to have been the third time since Sakura showed her the message, her voice hardening with each repetition of the text. As if the words finally registered, Ino snapped her eyes to her best friend, who slouched against the cushions of the couch, staring blank-faced at the television. After a moment in tense silence, Sakura lifted her wineglass to her lips and took a sip, before nodding. Ino tilted her head, frowning. "Sakura."

"Yup."

"Are you fucking shitting me?"

Sakura purposely avoided making eye contact with her best friend, already knowing what face the blonde was making. She really wasn't in the mood to argue with her, to make excuses for Deidara, to try and convince her friend (and perhaps herself) that it was okay that he didn't show up the other night. Because if she were being honest, Sakura really didn't even know what to say. She spent a good hour and a half preparing the stir-fry dish she had picked out and cleaned every inch of her apartment in expectancy of her boyfriend to arrive as promised, and he never showed up. She even did her makeup and shaved and changed her bed sheets! She had texted him twice, a few hours apart, and called once to leave a voicemail asking if he was okay, only to pass out on her couch in a really uncomfortable scrap of lingerie.
To say it hurt was an understatement. This wasn't the first time her boyfriend of nine months had flaked on her either, which only made her even madder. She understood that he worked a lot—construction workers did a lot of physical labor in harsh environments, after all—so she could understand him being a little exhausted when he got off work. But to do this almost every single time they've made plans? And then to have the audacity to text her at damn near 2 AM as if she were just a booty call?

"Sakura." Ino crouched down in front of her, placing her hands on either side of Sakura's face to force her to look at her. Sakura instantly felt her stomach drop upon seeing the pained expression Ino wore and still tried to look past her but Ino would have none of it. "Sakura, look at me. At me. Not the TV." Blank jade met fiery ice. Ino's frown was prominent, showing itself in her eyes and the rest of her face. "Sakura, look at what he's doing. He's not worth it dude."

Trying not to look away, Sakura nodded. How many times were they going to do this? How many times would Ino take the afternoon off to sit here, chugging wine to cheer her up because of Deidara? How many times would she let him so obviously play with her feelings? If she wanted to be technical, she couldn't really call Deidara her boyfriend. They had gone on a few dates back in late August, well, more than a few. For three weeks, they saw each other every single day, going out to eat between shifts, going to the beach, bowling and things like that. He'd sleep over at her house almost every night, or she would stay at his, even without ever having sex. He'd cook her breakfast on the mornings she stayed with him and vice versa, and he'd prep her lunches. They'd meet at the bar she frequented nearly every night and they'd shoot pool or throw darts, and he'd pay for all their drinks. He'd buy things for Willow, call her apartment "home" and would buy whatever things she needed when she asked. But they didn't hold hands or kiss in public except for maybe once, and they never really explicitly called their outings "dates", but Sakura didn't think they would've had to. Everything else seemed pretty forward and obvious, so she didn't really mind that he would look at her like she had grown another head when she kissed him, or that he would shake his hand out of hers whenever someone approached them. They were twenty-eight and thirty-two years old for God's sake! It shouldn't have had to need a label to be clear what they were.

Sitting down next to her to put a hand on her shoulder, Temari finally spoke. "Yeah. You deserve way better than that. Don't let him treat you like this." Tenten agreed in the form of a complaint about his recent distant attitude, much to Sakura's chagrin.

Her friends used to adore him. They had encouraged her to pursue him and gushed with her on the phone for hours every time she'd leave from a date with him. They thought he was so sweet and charming and so, so perfect for her, and she thought so too. Sakura loved him. Even though it was ridiculous because she only "dated" him for eight or nine months, but how else could she describe the way she felt? Just thinking of him, her stomach would tickle with the wings of butterflies. Her chest would twist when he'd smile at her. She could recall his scent from memory on command, remember every little shade of blue in his eyes when she looked at something in a similar color. And her skin would burnish as soon as she laid eyes on him, even on those nights when he was red and sweaty from work. What other word could describe how she didn't mind that he kicked her in his sleep, or when he'd steal all the blankets and keep her up all night with his snoring? What's the word for singing every single love song, imagining he was the one she was singing to?

If that wasn't love, then she didn't know what was.

Finally looking back at her lap where Willow laid, purring, Sakura sighed. In the back of her mind, she had always known this would happen. She always told herself that Deidara was too handsome, too perfect to be with her. Women were always looking at him when they went out together and it was intimidating. It made her a little insecure because he was just so damned perfect but he always helped her push those thoughts aside. So in a way, she had always known that what they had wasn't tangible, at least not to him, but she went along with it anyway because it was...comfortable.

Ino pulled the glass of wine away from Sakura's fingers and set it down on the coffee table. With Sakura's hands free, Ino pulled her into a hug that was returned wholeheartedly. "You are too beautiful, too fucking badass for a grown ass man who can't even handle being called a weenie."

A snort left Sakura's lips at that. When Deidara first started flaking on her and pulling the ignorance act, Ino had literally called the older man a weenie of all things, to his face. And he flipped. Sakura had been mad at her at first, citing Ino as the reason the two had gotten into a fight that lasted the rest of the night, but she later understood that she had wrongly blamed Ino because their fight started all because Deidara hadn't shown up for the fourth night in a row.

Shooting to her feet, Ino took Sakura's hands into hers and yanked until Sakura sat up straight on the edge of the couch. "Come on, Forehead. I know what'll cheer you up!" Ino beamed as she ran over to the stereo and turned it on. She fumbled around with her phone, activating the Bluetooth option, while Tenten and Temari gave her knowing looks. Sure enough, Sakura knew she couldn't fight off her growing smile as the familiar piano chords blared though her speakers. She had a love-hate relationship with this song, but her friends loved it.

Why are men great 'til they gotta be great?

Shaking her head, Sakura watched as her best friends stood up and began dancing to the music. Normally, she would've been a little more considerate of her neighbors in regards to the volume of her music—I just took a DNA test turns out I'm 100 percent that bitch—but since her downstairs neighbor was still at work and her next door neighbor was wherever it was he went at this time of day, she didn't see why she couldn't let loose a little bit. Standing up, grinning as her friends let out a loud "aye!", Sakura sang along.

You coulda' had a bad bitch, non-committal! Help you with your career, just a little!


Just Tonight


Oh Lord, heaven knows we belong way down below—way down below, way down below.

Sakura tried to focus on the lyrics and the beat of the drums as she ran, her heavy breaths just barely bypassing the music blaring from her headphones. She ignored the faint tightness in her chest, silently chanting to herself, "just a few more minutes."

Reaching for the water bottle resting on the holder of the treadmill, Sakura simultaneously raised the pace for her light jog to a medium one. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with her shoulder, panting out the lyrics to keep pace. There was no one else around, seeing as how it was four in the afternoon and most people were at work; but then again, she rarely ever saw anyone utilizing the gym in her apartment complex. It was pretty small, with only eight total machines—two treadmills, two bikes, a lateral pull-down bar, both a cable triceps and bicep bar, and a bench press rack. There were a few hand weights lining the wall too, but nothing that anyone that was actually serious about their lifting would find, but it was something at least. As much as she missed her old gym (or rather, their sauna), she'd rather make use of this itty-bitty building, seeing as how she was paying so much in rent for it.

When the next verse began, Sakura adjusted the speed to a casual gait. She checked her heart rate, stretching out her shoulders as they ached in protest, then took another sip of water.

Someone began walking towards her but she didn't notice until their form came to stand in her peripherals. Her eyes flickered towards the person, and it took a good amount of restraint to keep from physically depressing when she recognized the person beside her. He acknowledged her with a wave, as always, then stepped onto his treadmill beside her. Sakura ignored him, adjusting the machine to now go into a run while he began his walk. He warmed up for a few minutes, twisting his torso one way then the other, stretching his muscular arms across his chest for equal measures; the machine chimed as he quickened his pace into a jog, hands drawing his sweat drenched shirt over his head almost agonizingly slow. He must've been there for a while, judging by the sheen of sweat that dripped down his body, and because his otherwise unruly hair fell flatter than normal and stuck to his face.

Shit. She was watching him.

With her cheeks as rosy as her hair, Sakura huffed and downed some more water, redirecting her attention to her watch to track her vitals. She didn't realize he was speaking to her until his hand lightly shoved her shoulder. Ripping her headphones from her ear, she grunted, "What?"

Without even a hint of breathlessness, Shisui glanced at her. "I said: your mail was sent to my apartment. A package, too."

She frowned at that, her displeasure reaching her brows and drawing them together. She had been expecting a package for a new laptop weeks ago and had filed a claim about it not arriving, but the courier company insisted the package had been signed off and received. The whole ordeal had been exhausting, with her going back and forth between representatives and being put on hold a little longer than she thought necessary at times.

Confused, she asked, "Today?"

He shrugged in that nonchalant way of his, just barely managing to mask the laughter in his voice when he responded. "Eh, about two weeks ago."

"Two weeks ago?"

His grin was anything but friendly, more conniving actually, as he said, "I've been meaning to tell you but I'm a busy man, you know? And the last few times I saw you, neither of us were exactly in the mood to talk." The redness in her face came for a different now. She had ran into him twice since the laundry room incident, and both times they had been preoccupied with other things. The first, she had been been pressed against her front door, legs wrapped around Deidara's hips and fingers buried to the hilt in his hair, only to part when Shisui and a few his buddies stepped out of his neighboring apartment for a smoke. They were cooing and snickering like teenagers, breaking the mood almost instantaneously. And the second time, the two had gotten into a screaming match on their adjacent balconies. Deidara had been extra affectionate that night, peeling her clothes off of her methodically and kissing her with a passion that rivaled a thousand suns, when she kept hearing shouting and banging coming from next door. After a few minutes of that, Sakura finally stormed out onto her balcony in nothing but her underwear and a translucent robe, where Shisui and his current bed warmer were arguing and promptly told them to "shut the hell up".

Yeah, those were definitely not appropriate times to bring up her misplaced mail.

Suddenly, the smirk on Shisui's lips made her suspicious. "I didn't think I'd see you again for a while, so I left it with Genma." She nearly tackled him. Genma lived in the unit below her. He mentioned just yesterday that he would be out of town for the next few weeks. She was going to murder Shisui.

Something pink suddenly invaded her vision, being draped over her water bottle and with rapt mortification, Sakura recognized the strip of lace as being a thong—one of her thongs. She almost screamed, and she would have if not for all the other tenants that were working out around her. She crumpled the strip of fabric in her hand in a lame attempt at hiding it, her skin so red that an image of her shy, childhood friend came to mind, as she prayed no one else noticed.

"You left that in one of the dryers, by the way," Shisui goaded, openly snickering as Sakura found no choice but to stuff the article into her sports bra. "You really should pay better attention to your belongings, Sakura. Although, I kind of wish that your underwear was in my sheets for a different reason."

Absolutely mortified, she jumped off of the machine and hurried off towards the exit. Even as she exited the building, Shisui's laugh rang in her ears.

She decided then that just murdering Shisui wasn't enough.


Just Tonight


Sakura knew she shouldn't have met up with Deidara tonight. Call it a gut feeling, but she knew that if she saw him tonight, that this would be the turning point for her, that she would end up going home alone pissed and with makeup running down her cheeks. While the night had gone relatively smoothly, with Deidara showing up at their favorite bar about an hour later than he said he'd be there, she just knew she was going to regret ever even texting him.

Almost a week had passed since he flaked on yet another date, and she spent those days fuming and working up the nerve to delete his number from her contacts, when he suddenly messaged her. Ino nearly threw her phone out the window when she recognized the notification tone Sakura had assigned him, hissing like an affronted cat that Sakura better not fucking open it. And she didn't. Until two hours later.

Hey beautiful, what's your plans tonight?
January 4th, 1:12 PM

She tried to be curt, distant, saying she had plans with her friends. If he noticed, he didn't let on. Instead, she let slip that she would be going to Thirsty's Tavern and then he hinted that he might make an appearance around ten o'clock. Ino was furious when she saw Deidara walk in, but nowhere near as furious as Sakura when he walked right past her to hang out at the pool table where a gaggle of hot twenty-three year old girls were sinking a few balls. She initially brushed it off as him wanting to put his name on the board before it got too busy, because that's what he usually did. Then when he lingered there for another twenty minutes, she chalked it up to him running into someone that he knew. And when yet another twenty or so minutes went by, Sakura finally stalked over towards the man she had been keen on actually seeing, trying to ignore the way the redhead he was talking to (and that she had previous beef with) was eyeing him. That should have been the first and second red flag that her night wasn't going to end well.

He tried to act as if he hadn't seen her when he came in. She could have believed him, considering how busy the bar was, but she had pink fucking hair, and she was dressed in a tight little skirt and those thigh high boots he loved to drool over. So that hurt. But when Sakura came to interrupt their conversation and Deidara wrapped his arm around her waist to draw her in for a kiss—their second ever public kiss—almost all of her concern melted away. The rest of the night, they sat at the corner of the bar where they always sat, ignoring the heated glares Ino and Temari sent at them and chatting about their busy week schedule and making plans for the rest of the week. Deidara had kept his hand atop her knee and faced her the whole time, stroking her skin with his fingers in that comforting way of his and playing with her hair the way she liked it. And things were great.

Until Sakura spent ten minutes chatting with Ino about plans for a spa day.

She swiveled in her chair to ask Deidara a question, only to find that redhead had squeezed her way directly between them. She leant onto the bar, a foot propped up on the leg of his barstool and therefore brushing her leg against his. He was holding her cellphone in his hand when she first faced them, and was giving the phone back to the woman who read back his phone number to him.

"Great. I'll call you later, Deidara," She giggled, adjusting the frames of her glasses and then turning to leave. As she passed Sakura, who was red and slack jawed and pissed, the girl smiled at her, then returned to her friends at the pool table. Almost immediately, Sakura rounded back to Deidara who was scrolling on his phone.

"What the fuck was that?"

He glimpsed at her briefly. "Hm? What?"

"Giving Karin your number," She retorted, her glare heating her face.

He waved his hand to dismiss the subject, turning to face her so their knees touched. She scooted back into her seat to avoid the contact. Noticing the retreat, Deidara looked down at her legs, then back up to her with his brows furrowed, almost looking confused. "She said she wanted to volunteer at the studio I volunteer at. I gave her my number so she could call me if she had any questions about it or needed me to talk to Sasori."

What a disgusting, bold faced lie.

He looked so unbelievably sincere when he lied to her. Something inside of her snapped. "Are you serious, Deidara!? You really don't fucking get it!?"

Irritation settled on his face at her shout. "Get what? Why are you yelling at me, hmm?"

Sakura paused, frozen in place as she replayed his tone in her head. Was he that dense? She couldn't do this. Blinking, Sakura hopped off her seat and removed her purse and jacket from the hook beneath the counter. Shrugging them both on, she briskly headed towards the door, not even faltering when she heard both Deidara and Ino shout her name. When she got outside, she went to stand with a group of regulars that were smoking at the stairs to the room upstairs. One of the bartenders, who was on a break, took one glance at Sakura's shivering, tearing form, then wordlessly handed her the remnants of her cigarette. While she was never a big smoker, she made a few exceptions every now and then, and this situation called for it.

A few moments later, Ino ran out along with Temari and Tenten. "Sakura, what happened?" Tenten hurriedly asked, setting her hands on the pinkette's shoulders. "Are you okay?"

And so she relayed the who thing to them. By the end of it, she wasn't even crying anymore, just furious, and all three of her friends looked ready to storm back inside the building. But they didn't have to because Deidara casually stepped out, Karin in tow. Sakura would've liked to say she was the calm one amongst her group of friends, but seeing the two together, she almost lost it. "Hey Sakura! I love your outfit," Karin said, smiling still as she lit her own cigarette.

Sakura prepared to respond but Ino did for her. "Fuck off, Karin."

Something akin to offense flittered onto Karin's features then; her eyes narrowed into a glare and she cocked her head to the side as if she wasn't sure she heard that right. "Excuse me?"

Seeing movement in the doorway, Sakura noted that the other half of her friends were watching from the doorway now. Neji was the first to step completely outside, coming to stand beside Tenten and securing an arm around her shoulders. He pulled her close, pearl eyes hovering intently over Deidara as he whispered something into Tenten's temple, disguised as a tender kiss. Naruto came down next, standing beside Sakura while Shikamaru and Kiba remained in the doorway looking ready for just about anything. Sakura's chest fluttered at the site of her friends standing up for her, and it stirred the primal urge to rake her manicured nails across Karin's face. And she knew for a fact that Naruto and Kiba had their own beef with the blonde that they would've gladly liked to squash then and there.

But this was too much drama than it's worth.

Wrapping her arm around Naruto, and sure to look Deidara in the eye, she announced, "Come on guys. Let's get out of here."

Deidara's expression changed then, different from the confused, ignorant faces he made earlier. Now he looked maddened. "Sakura, calm down. You're being dramatic. I'll drive you home."

"Like hell you are!" She retorted. "Leave me alone Deidara. I'm going home."

Naruto's arm stretched out, hovering between Deidara and Sakura warningly when the former reached out for her. "Back off, Deidara."

He raised his hands in surrender, shrugging. "Alright. Fine. If that's what you want, yeah." Something in his tone made her suddenly very uncomfortable. It made him sound sad, hurt even, and that coupled with the frown on his face made her pause. Was this part of his act, too?


Just Tonight


She wasn't sure why she let him take her home. Maybe it was wistful thinking. Maybe it was desperation. All she knows though, is that she had enough. The car ride back to her apartment was uncomfortable and tense; part of her wanted to just jump out of the car at the next stoplight, the other wanted to let loose her wrath now while he couldn't walk away. Chancing a look at Deidara, Sakura found herself bristling; the asshole hardly seemed phased by the tension in the vehicle, watching the road and conversing with their Uber driver without a care.

Had he always been this infuriating?

Luckily, the bar was only a ten minute drive away—five minutes if one drove fast enough—so she only had to endure a few minutes of discomfort. All she could think about was how mad she was, how betrayed she felt. She approached the stairs as quickly as she could in those damned heels, shivering and drawing her jacket as close to her as possible, ignoring Deidara as he called out to her. She prayed, no demanded to whatever Gods were watching her, that her exhausting neighbor was either too busy to poke fun at her, or was out of the apartment. Thankfully, she didn't see anyone on the steps when she climbed them. Slamming the door behind her, Sakura brought her hands into her hair and took a deep breath, hoping it would somehow calm her down before she broke something. She counted to ten in a whispered growl, her face twisting as the door opened and closed a second time with Deidara's entrance. Finally reaching ten, Sakura whirled around. "Get your stuff and leave."

Leaning against the wall, Deidara quirked a brow. "Sakura, calm down."

"I said leave!" She shrugged her jacket from her body and tossing it onto the couch. When the handsome blonde stalked towards her, Sakura forced herself straight. She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring with all of her rage and anger and hurt that she could find within herself. She wanted to cry. She could feel hundreds of unshed tears threatening her composure, but she would damned if she let him see her cry over him.

Finally standing right in front of her, Deidara mimicked her form, looking down at her from the slope of her nose and what seemed to be a hurt look on his face. "Are you sure that's what you want?" God even his voice sounded hurt. Was he always this manipulative, and she just couldn't see it? His hand reached her, his cold fingers drawing circles on her elbow just as he always did when she was angry. And all that did was solidify her realization; he really was just a manipulative asshole. He had always been like this. All those times he'd kiss her when she was upset, all the times he'd play with her hair when they were in bed, it was all an act. He liked to hurt her. He knew exactly what he was doing when he started those fights with her, blaming her for being tired in the morning. He wanted to hurt her, so he could make her feel twice as good when he apologized, so she would stay.

And it fucking worked.

"Get out."

Her voice was broken, betraying her. She couldn't look at him. It was as if a veil or a magic sheet had been lifted off of him, because suddenly, his blue eyes were ugly to her. His hair wasn't as sexy despite being tied back in the way she liked it. And her heart wasn't trying to leap from her chest looking at him. Now, she realized she hated his taste in music, and she was so mad that he stole her blankets when they slept, and that attractive grunt of a speech impediment was just annoying. All those love songs she'd sing with Ino—she couldn't even think of a single song where the lyrics fit him. All those cute little things that were once so endearing, were just hindrances now. Looking at him now, now that his charm had disappeared, he was just as average as anyone else. He didn't make butterflies tickle her insides, or make her heart stutter, or make her skin smolder. She turned on her heel and retreated to her bedroom to start collecting the things he had left behind.

"Maybe we need a break," Deidara sighed, glancing at his phone screen. The time—3:27 AM—reflected in his eyes, making her realize just how tired she was. And then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You're always keeping me up when you know I have to leave for work at five, hmm."

Affronted, Sakura pointed at herself. "Me!?" They've argued about that before. More than once, actually. This was going to be the last time. "You've always been more than welcome to leave."

"But I stay because I want to be with you," He shot back. "You're being crazy over some random girl. If this is how you are, then maybe I shouldn't call you later."

"You gave her your number right in front of my face! How else am I supposed to react?" His fingers reached for her arm again, but this time she yanked herself away as if his touch offended her. "Don't touch me."

The emotion in Deidara's eyes flickered, morphing into something that sort of scared her. Those cerulean orbs were so dark now as they looked at her. He reached for her again, and she responded by darting towards the dresser and began throwing his things to the floor. "Sakura, stop," He seethed, moving towards her again. He grabbed her arms with his long, strong fingers and gave her a harsh shake. "Quit it! You're being crazy!"

"I'm being crazy!? You're unbelievable!" She thrashed in his grip, managing to shake him free and shoved him towards the door. "Why am I always the bad guy here? How come any time I tell you I don't like something, or that I don't feel comfortable with something, I'm the one who's being ridiculous?"

"God damn it Sakura! I told you from the beginning that I can't do drama. I don't want drama. But that's all you are," He snapped. "Everything is something with you!"

"Well maybe if you listened to me when I say I don't like something, and compromise with me, I wouldn't have to blow up about it!"

Deidara brought his hands to lay flat on his chest in a gesture regarding himself. "Why should I have to compromise about anything? I don't ask you to compromise for me. And still, it's not like we're dating or anything so what's the problem?"

The heat that gripped at the back of her neck dissipated, now rupturing into an iciness that burned all the same. Even though she had already suspected what he said long ago, hearing it aloud and having it confirmed hurt in a different kind of way—a "smacked in the face" kind of way. Throwing the closest thing, the cord to her laptop, at him, she sneered, "Not dating? Really Deidara? All these months, everything we went through, that wasn't dating?"

"You never told me you wanted more than friendship."

She paused, completely and utterly stunned into silence at his response. Surely he was just talking to upset her now. He couldn't be that cold, that heartless, that stupid could he? "Are you serious? You needed me to actually spell it out for you?"

"You can't expect me to read your mind! How many times have I told you to use your words, hmm?" Then he put his hands on his hips, looking at her in that condescending way he always did when she was upset. "Come on, be a big girl and use your words."

She hated that he always talked down to her like that, that he scolded her like she was a child having a tantrum. And yeah, sometimes she deserved it, but more often or not, she didn't. He was just a few years older than her, but found some sort of delight in treating her like a kid. For the most part, she brushed off his comments as being teasing ones, even though she detested that patronizing tone, but now that she could see underneath his words, she couldn't tolerate it. Sakura took a breath that shuddered in her chest. "Fuck you."

His expression transitioned again, this time more intense than before, so much so that she actually regretted her words the moment they left her lips. It was as if something literally snapped in him because all remnants of his indifferent attitude had melted away, disappearing completely until she could honestly say she didn't recognize the man in front of her. "Excuse me?" He hissed, his cheek pulsating in that once attractive way of his. "Fuck me? Did I just hear that right?"

"Get out, now Deidara." He grabbed at her hands when she tried to push him away again, and this time she shoved him with everything that she could, the momentum sending her back against the wall. "I said don't fucking touch me!" She screamed, the tears now falling freely. "I never want to see you again!"

They shoved at one another again, his hands flailing as he tried to get a grip on her hands as she swung blindly at him, until finally she managed to slam the heel of her palm into his nose, causing blood to erupt from it. Tears welled in his eyes, his hands shooting up to nurse his nose while blood spilled all over the front of his shirt. At that point, she blocked out whatever curses he threw at her, somehow finding the strength to shove him out her door with her body. When the door slammed, one last "fucking bitch" reached through her door, but it didn't even pinch.


Just Tonight


Shisui shifted his arms against the railings to his balcony, leaning forward so he could look out at the pathway winding past his apartment. Kakashi and Raido were discussing something that he was less than halfway listening to on either side of him. It was around 2 or 3 in the morning, and while he normally didn't mind having his friends over at this time of night, he knew that his feisty next door neighbor might have had a few things to say about it. He actually was a little surprised she hadn't come around by now, pushing his guests out of the way and threatening to throw his coffee table across the room. He figured she was home. He had heard her music earlier—Something 'bout you makes me feel like a dangerous woman—and her Jetta was in it's usual spot, so she must've just been either that tired or that fed up that she didn't want to bother saying anything. Or, she had gone out earlier and he just hadn't noticed.

Well that was no fun.

He wouldn't say that he intentionally went out of his way to make sure his short, pink haired neighbor was annoyed, because he wasn't that type of person—most of the time. Sure, he liked seeing her get so riled up and flustered over little things, especially because she was always so creative and explosive with her threats. It was kind of cute, in the way a wet cat or a glaring pitbull was cute. And he loved pits. Which is why he liked to poke fun at her when she was in a clearly sour mood, and why he capitalized on her attraction to him whenever it suited him. But again, he didn't go out of his way to actually upset her.

If anything, she's the one who started it.

When she first moved in, he introduced himself and even offered to help her with her furniture. He thought her pink hair was ridiculous, but also admitted that it suited her dainty appearance. That day, she had been dressed in a dark green flannel that was big enough to be worn as a dress and little acid washed shorts, and a lacy black crop top that showed off more cleavage than she probably thought it did. He had gotten quite the eyeful whenever she'd bend over in front of him, so really that's when it all started. After she settled in, she'd run around the block or hop on the treadmill at their shared gym, in a sports bra and spandex shorts—how could he not look when she was dressed like that? It wasn't as if he were scared to acknowledge that she was pretty. He even admitted it to his friends when they would watch her storm to and from her apartment, from the safety of his balcony, and he even confessed it to her on more than one occasion. At first, she seemed to appreciate the flattery, rolling her eyes with a smile or thanking him, making a coy little attempt at dismissal. She even flirted back. But then something changed and those thank you's became snarky comments and dry stares. He accredited the shift in their relationship as being out of frustration due to their back and forth feuding or maybe because of her relationship status. But their quarreling started probably around two months into her arrival, he estimated, long before she started getting so assertive, so it didn't make sense for her to be so adverse to his flirting when she previously seemed to bask in it.

Their feud itself started after the first time she explained to him that she could hear him through the walls, he guessed. He really was sorry for that, honestly. He had been as embarrassed as he was amused. But then she brought her friends over, and they would blare hyphy throwbacks at full volume at 10 PM when he had paperwork to read through. So he'd play his music a little louder to drown out their drunken karaoke. Then he'd sit on his balcony with Genma or Kakashi, smoking cigarettes while grilling steaks, and those girls would be on Sakura's balcony across from him, chugging wine straight from the bottle, dancing and singing along to songs with lyrics about how much men sucked. The blonde friend in particular thought it was funny to throw the empty bottles into his balcony. And on Saturday nights, he'd hear the rosette and her friends giggle and squeal and chatter as they stumbled up the stairs, after they'd park crookedly in her parking spot so he'd struggle to get in and out the next morning. And whenever she brought a man home, he'd hear her through the walls, just like she'd hear him. But he never complained about it, not even when she and her current boyfriend got into screaming matches in the middle of the night or when she'd slam her door after ubering home. And he certainly never tried to break down her door to complain. Her male friends got just as loud as his did when they were wasted, tackling each other in front of their stairs and breaking one of her potted plants. She blamed him for that, of course. And speaking of, she had one little pot on every single stair and on the railings of her balcony and at the top of the stairs, making the already tight passageway a just little tighter. And when she did laundry, she liked to use more than one washer and dryer for her one load, and he hated people who did that. And let's not forget the—what, five?—wind chimes that hung on her balcony. Surely she bought them all for the sole purpose of annoying him. Especially the one with the crystals that casted rainbows and glares into his window.

Then there was her hell spawn of a cat; the silvermane feline would somehow find it's way into his apartment nearly six days a week, and it absolutely loved pissing on his sheets and shedding all over his black couch. Whenever he'd try to lead it outside, it would hiss and claw at his arms, tail lashing and fangs almost barred into a wretched little smile. And it always left the corpses of it's feathery victims on his balcony, as if it were sending him some sort of bloody warning. Some mornings, the little minx would be laying on his windshield and wouldn't get off, even when he sprayed the cleaner and turned on the wipers. At night, it mewled and meowed incessantly outside, attracting other cats and sometimes raccoons to fight with. She never believed him when he told her all of this.

So if he could find little ways to inconvenience her, he would. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he liked the way her brows furrowed together when they argued, or how her nose scrunched up all cutely when he fought back. Nothing at all.

...okay, maybe a little.

Twin beams of light came into view, announcing the appearance of a white Nissan that he had never seen before. With bored intrigue, Shisui observed as one of the back doors opened, revealing a head of pink. Sakura stepped out of the car, slammed the door loud enough that it echoed into the night, prompting Shisui to share a look with Kakashi and Raido. Luckily, it was just them three, so they weren't too concerned with any messes the obviously angry woman could blame them for. When she came into view, her tantalizingly long heeled boots striking the ground with a purpose and her outfit revealing the body she usually liked to hide, he nearly whistled, but reigned himself in when he realized that now perhaps wasn't the best time to play around with her. Her boyfriend followed a ways away from her, hands in his pockets and face set into a scowl, already telling Shisui just why the girl was upset.

"Well damn," Kakashi commented, wincing when he heard a door slam. "I'd hate to be him right now."

"Same," Raido grunted, raising his beer up in agreement.

"Hey, maybe she'll finally dump him," Kakashi mused. "I never liked him."

Neither did Shisui. It wasn't out of jealousy or anything. It went beyond that. Sakura had always been a high-strung woman, at least from what he knew ever since their first meeting, but she had been even more wound up ever since she started bringing the blonde home with her. She suddenly was very vocal about every little thing that bothered her, at least in regards to her appearance or the appearance of her apartment, thus why she was suddenly peeved over the ash tray that balanced on the railings of the stairs, and why she cleaned her place obsessively in the middle of the night. Her own friends commented on that several times, judging on how many times he had overheard them discussing this over on her own balcony. Before Deidara, Sakura was a bit friendlier about the things that bugged her, easier to talk to almost, and much more lenient with her temper. So in a way, Deidara made her take out her frustration on him.

"What—you think she'd go for you?"

"Hey, a man can dream, can't he?"

Not that he was an eavesdropper or anything, but Shisui had overheard his fair share of details pertaining to Sakura's relationship with Deidara. How could he not when her friends liked to gossip, wine-drunk on her adjacent balcony? They were practically right next to each other. And from what he's heard, their relationship was destined for failure almost instantly. Deidara never wanted anything serious with her. It was obvious from the start, at least to him, since he was a guy. And in guy language, he had told Sakura that he wasn't looking for a relationship with her, but she was just too defiant and in denial to hear it.

Which brought up a little bit of bitterness in Shisui's throat, but he didn't want to focus on why.

"You gave her your number right in front of my face!"

This time, Shisui did whistle while his friends shook their heads. That was a big mistake on Deidara's part. As much of a flirt as Shisui was, he knew that giving another girl his number while in the vicinity of a girl he was either hooking up with or dating, was essentially suicide. That was just asking for a fight. Every guy knew that. Not only that, but that was just so unbelievably disrespectful.

He didn't mean to listen in on their argument, but it wasn't as if he could anything else but. With how they were shouting, he wouldn't have been surprised if someone in the next building heard them. The longer the couple fought, the harder it began to get for Shisui to beat down the flames in his chest; he was beginning to feel the intensity of his anger lapping at the back of his neck because even though Sakura would fervently deny the claim and to other people they seemed everything but, they were friends, or nothing less than something resembling it.

Or at least that was what he liked to believe.

The floor vibrated, something crashed against the wall—"I said don't fucking touch me!"

The three of them straightened at Sakura's scream, sharing a look that asked one another if they should get involved or not, but ultimately they didn't have to because after a few more minutes of shouting and muffled shuffling, the door opened and slammed. They acted as if they hadn't heard anything, going back to their beers when Deidara descended the steps, nursing a bloody nose. He didn't acknowledge them, nor did they think to provoke him, opting to watch him as he made a phone call and waiting for his ride. Ever since then, Shisui hadn't seen even a hint of the long haired man, other than two garbage bags full of what must have been his clothes in the dumpster.

He just hoped that their explosively messy breakup meant that Sakura would revert back into a version of herself that was in a better mood, rather than a worse one. Frowning, Shisui took another sip of his beer.


Just Tonight


Sakura slammed her car door with her hip, carefully balancing the paper bag in her arms against her chest. She had her arms quite literally full with a few bags dangling from the crooks of her elbows and a bag of cat food precariously hanging over her left arm and now this last bag against her breast. She really didn't want to make more than one trip, being as tired as she was, but as she stalked towards the stairs, she began to regret her decision.

It had been a handful of days since her fight with Deidara. He hadn't messaged or called her, and she didn't bother even entertaining the idea of reaching out to him.

Not that it mattered. She was over the situation. After he left the apartment, Sakura took it upon herself to gather all his belongings and dump them unceremoniously into the dumpster at the side of the building. It was strangely therapeutic seeing the light blue jean jackets he liked to wear fall into the trash, almost enlightening even when the teddy bear he had won from one of their "dates" joined them. Anything that reminded her of the bastard was thrown out including his spare toothbrush, his hairbrush, all the toiletries that occupied the second shelf of her bathroom cabinet—even the things he bought for her home like the dream catcher he picked up from the flea market and the pretty green sundress he paid for. Ripping up their photos that were once put into a collage on her living room wall didn't even hurt like she had expected it to. It just felt as if she were ripping up old mail.

But as ridiculous as it seemed considering the events of that night and how done she was with everything else that led up to it, part of Sakura was disappointed that he didn't even try to chase her. Was she really than insignificant to him?

She pushed the thought aside as she reached her stairs. Her arms were beginning to throb under the weight of her groceries, turning the skin an irritated shade of red that would surely linger for a while. She considered leaving some of her bags at the foot of the stairs and making a trip or two upstairs, but she knew that as soon as she got upstairs she was going to fall into the comfort of her couch. She didn't seem to have much energy as of late, and she wasn't sure if it was because of the overloading plate from work, or because she was trying so hard not to think about Deidara, or if it was because of Deidara. Specifically, that she had spent an unhealthy amount of time crying in bed and drinking wine while remembering why she was so upset in the first place.

The girls had been in and out ever since the explosive breakup. Ino had come over immediately the next morning without calling, just like she always did when she and Deidara got into it or whenever Sakura made it clear she was upset with him. And after relaying every detail of the fight and a few phone calls, Hinata, Tenten and Temari made their appearances throughout the day. They got hammered, throwing back shots of vodka and tequila, ordering Chinese takeout and doing face masks until they all eventually passed out to reruns of Friends. A few days after was when Sakura started throwing out Deidara's shit. And she did it with all her friends—the girls and their boyfriends, and Kiba and Shino and Lee and a few others included—filling up her home so she didn't have the time to be upset. They were all a welcome distraction, and honestly if not for them, Sakura was sure she would have cried some more.

But after her friends left, and when they were too busy to come by, Sakura found herself mixing up a cocktail as soon as she crossed the threshold of her apartment, building up the courage to delete her ex's number. And that's when the memories of what they had would begin, and then came the tears.

Grunting, Sakura began making her way up the stairs. As she ascended the steps, she noted a void on one of them, with only the ring of ingrained dirt being left of what was once a succulent that she knew was there earlier that day. She sighed at the empty space, mumbling to herself, "Whatever. I don't care. It's fine. Everything's fine."

"Need some help?"

She looked back down the stairs where Shisui and another man were standing. They were holding their own bags, and a tinfoil catering tray that emanated the most delicious scent she had ever had the honor of smelling. The man holding the tray was a familiar one, and Sakura recognized him as one of Shisui's cousins, Itachi. He came around the place often, but she didn't think she'd ever actually spoken to him. Not that she really talked to any of Shisui's guests. He was the one Shisui claimed to mistake her for when his prank went awry. Adjusting her grip on Willow's food, she huffed, "No."

She heard a snort, and then footsteps, and then the paper bag against her chest was taken from her embrace. Sakura scowled at Shisui as he pushed past her and made it up the stairs, even more so when he continued to hold her groceries rather than put them down when he reached the top. Lowering the cat food to the ground carefully, Sakura fished for her keys and unlocked the door, letting it reel back and hit the wall behind it, then made her way inside. She didn't expect Shisui or Itachi to follow, and they didn't. Shisui left her things at the door and disappeared into his own unit without a word to her, which she actually really appreciated. After setting her many bags on table, she went back out to heave the cat food bag and the paper bag inside, to find Shisui about to shut his door. She hesitated in calling out to him, her mood still not at it's best, but after seeing his glance flicker to her, she swallowed her pride and mumbled a quiet, "thanks."

He looked a little stunned by her comment, what with his eyebrows raised and his lips parted as if he intended on saying something, which actually made her feel more than a little guilty. Was she really that much of a bitch that her neighbor was actually shocked that she could say thanks? Then again, could he really blame her?

He smiled at her, and for once, his grin didn't seem to have any other intentions. "Yeah no problem. You were blocking the stairs." A vein in Sakura's temple twitched animatedly at his response, and she shut the door a little harder than was probably necessary. On that note, she was more than a little surprised when an hour later, she found a plate of mac and cheese, gravy drizzled mashed potatoes, and grilled chicken wrapped up with her name on it, sitting on the ledge of the stairs, along with a baby blue post-it.

Sorry about your plant.
-Shisui


Just Tonight


If he don't love you anymore, then walk your fine ass out the door. I do my hair toss, check my nailsbaby how you feeling?

Shisui's finger's twitched, tightening around the drink balanced on his thigh. He had one hell of a headache, and the vibrating bass that emanated from his neighbor's unit was doing little to help. The music had been going on all afternoon, accompanied by the voices of Sakura's lady friend's as they belted out the lyrics, wine-drunk as per usual. Normally he just ignored them, but today they seemed especially ratchet—and that wasn't a word he used often. He assumed they were having a sleepover, judging by the backpacks they had all carried along with their regular purses, the kind of sleepover that involved bottles of flavored Ciroc and songs that were uplifting for women—Ooh girl, need to kick off your shoes. Got to take a deep breath, time to focus on you—which meant Sakura was in one of those moods, and therefore meant he would be up for a while.

So of course when Genma and Kakashi came by, he said fuck it and invited whoever else he could think of. At least with a handful of friends, he could ride out his headache and not suffer the alone.

He really was sympathetic towards the woman next door. Honestly. But her spontaneous mood swings were finally beginning to grate on his nerves. Before, he didn't really take her scoldings or threats to heart because as much as the two couldn't stand one another, there was an underlying understanding that, that was just how their relationship was. Well, that's how he saw it, anyway. But this was a whole other level.

The first week or so after the breakup was quiet. Sakura made herself scarce. He only caught a glimpse of her when she was leaving for work or coming home, but even those instances were rare. After that came to pass, the anger kicked in. She was back to slamming her doors and finding reasons to shout, even if it was at her own friends. One of her friends, Naruto he believed was his name, had taken the brunt of it for no reason other than existing. Shisui distinctly remembered listening to her call him every name in the book when they were on her patio once, and he took her wrath like a champ, holding her heavily breathing form after she had let it all out. She even got into a bit of a spat with the one he knew as Ino. But after she got out all that resentment, things changed again. She was still angry, but in a different way. She seemed distant, nonreactive to his teasing and advances. She didn't confront him about his music being too loud, even when he purposely pressed his speakers against the wall they shared. The pile of cigarette butts that had appeared on her doorstep over a week ago hadn't been brought up. She didn't even pin a passive-aggressive note to his door. Then out of nowhere, she just exploded, storming into his place and throwing a tantrum before leaving just as angrily. She was cold and guarded and not the Sakura that pouted and grumbled at his playful albeit admittingly annoying antics.

He was seriously getting tired of the bratty attitude, and he let her know that. He should've made a complaint to Tsunade about her a while ago, maybe even filed a complaint with the cops but he couldn't bring himself to do it. The kind-hearted social butterfly in him just couldn't help but pity her because she just had a lot of things to work through, and needed time to do it.

He desperately prayed to all the Gods above that this, too, shall pass, and that things could go back to normal.

"Oi, come over here and take your shots," Genma called, causing a flicker of dread in him. A moment later, Genma appeared on the balcony, carefully gripping six glasses in his two hands. Shisui and Raido took one each, waiting patiently as Obito, Rin, Kotetsu and Izumo joined them outside with their own shots. A few minutes of laughs and shouts later, Genma, Itachi, Kurenai and Asuma appeared on the other side of the sliding door. Once they were all accounted for, Shisui clinked the rim of his glass with everyone, grinning and waving off the collective "thank you" they chorused towards him. Throwing back his drink, Shisui shuddered as the tequila clutched his throat, slamming his glass on the ledge of his balcony at the same time. He regretted the drink immediately; he couldn't stand tequila, preferring whiskey or rum, even vodka, over the golden liquor but he forced it down before it could come back up.

"You could've warned me it was tequila," He managed to say, somehow, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Beside him, Kakashi grimaced, letting out a "Woo!" as his shiver went all the way down his spine. "Yeah that hurt."

Shisui laughed wholeheartedly as Itachi's face twisted in distaste, slapping his hand against his younger cousin's back jovially. "This is gonna hurt in the morning," Itachi grunted, pushing his way back into the house with his empty glass. He distantly registered the sound of a door opening and closing, but didn't think too much of it until he heard a low whistle behind him.

"Now this is a sight I could get used to," Genma snickered, leaning far out over the balcony to get a better look at whatever caught his eye.

Curious, Shisui and Kakashi joined him, peering though the annoying trees that obscured part of his view. He heard the distinct clacking of heels, then the familiar peal of laughter that echoed in the otherwise quiet courtyard; and then singing—Why are men great 'til they gotta be great?

He nearly groaned. If he heard them sing or play or hum that god damn song one more time, he was going to rip Sakura's stereo from her wall and toss it over the balcony. Maybe he'd even scream. He understood that she was still upset over her breakup two weeks ago or whatever, but did he have to suffer with her? Her friends persuaded her to play the same songs over and over and over—Truth Hurts, Thank U, Next, Dangerous Woman, 7 Rings, Good As Hell—it was exhausting and ruined the songs for him whenever they happened to be playing in stores or on the radio. He never thought he'd ever live to see the day where he actually missed the strange, eclectic mixture of rock and early 2000's hyphy music he usually heard coming from Sakura's apartment, but he did.

After a moment, the girls came into view, swaying their hips in that disastrously feminine way that demanded attention, and damn did Shisui perk up. They were all dolled up, with high heels and more layers of makup than clothes. The boisterous blonde one who shared a creepy resemblance to Sakura's ex was especially done up in a lavender dress that she couldn't possibly have been wearing underwear with. Even the shier one with the purple hair looked like she was on a conquest, what with that baby blue skirt and off-the-shoulder top combo. Hell, even the two more tomboyish girls were a dressed a bit skimpier than usual in their respective mini skirts and stilettos. And at the center of them all, with her arms interlaced with the two tomboys, Sakura sang along with them, baring the first smile he thought he had seen in weeks. She wore a black romper with a halter neck; the hem of the shorts were so high on her thighs, leaving a large gap of skin between them and the tops of those tantalizing thigh high boots, while a long mesh cutout stretched from her navel to her neck, revealing all the skin and cleavage in between.

If that outfit didn't scream "freshly single"...

"Looking good ladies," He finally called out, while his friends all whistled and catcalled, now somehow gathered at the edge of his balcony. Even Itachi looked down at them appreciatively. The group turned to look up at him with various degrees of fluster, and he responded by lifting his drink in cheers. Genma and a few others did the same.

The one he knew as Ino scoffed and flipped her hair over her shoulder coyly. "You know it."

Sakura didn't say anything but mimicked her friend's flick of her hair with a smile that made Shisui's chest tighten in anticipation.


Just Tonight


A soft sigh left Sakura's lips as she stared up at the sky. She was freezing. No, beyond freezing. Frigid, if that applied.

The warmth of all the liquor in her stomach was beginning to die, turning into nothing more than embers now, and the leather jacket draped around her shoulders did little to help. At her feet, Willow purred and rammed her head against Sakura's legs, rubbing the rest of her body against her every now and then. Content with the peace of the moment, Sakura relaxed her shoulders, leaning her elbows onto her knees and absentmindedly scratching Willow's ear.

It was too early for her to be home. It was barely past midnight, she guiltily acknowledged, dropping her head. Her night out with the girls ended early on her end, despite how badly she wanted to spend the whole night out with them. They seemed to understand, and even though they were all upstairs peeling off their fake eyelashes and wiping off their lipstick and changing into sweatpants, Sakura couldn't help but feel bad. It was her idea to go out like this, after all. She had a hell of a good time, to be fair. She danced and drank and sang and flirted to her heart's content, but her mood held an underlying heaviness that alcohol just couldn't melt away, and she wasn't sure why.

"Oh Willow," Sakura sighed, closing her eyes. "Why do men suck so much?"

A mewl was her response, coaxing a hum from the tipsy pinkette. She leant slightly against the banister of the steps, eyes drooping a little as fatigue ebbed at her. She thought back to her night out again, replying the memories of their entrance into the bar, remembering the weight of a hundred eyes on her, gazing at her with lust and longing and challenge. But not appreciation. Not adoration. But she couldn't expect looks like that from strangers, she supposed. A frown tugged at her lips as she recalled how awkward she felt when men came to talk to her. All she could think about was how boring they all were, how quick to please they acted, laughing at her dry humor and propositioning her with red-rimmed eyes and whiskey breath.

Nothing felt real. Tangible. Honest.

But again, that was a lot to expect from strangers. She couldn't expect anyone to look at her like that or to treat her like a girlfriend with just one alcohol-induced meeting. Without her permission, her thoughts drifted further back into the night, when she and the ladies first exited her apartment; the wolfish whistles and appreciating stares of the men who frequented her neighbor's balcony—and then the gaze of Shisui himself. The weight of his gaze was always a heavy one when she thought about it, always alight with roguish intent and accentuated with a warmth that made her heartbeat stutter. Even when they first met, when they were something akin to friends, he seemed pretty open about his attraction to her, flirting with her in scenes reminiscent to their last encounter in the laundry room. Even now at her worse, he looked at her with such raw fascination and amusement, that it made her wonder if all those little moments of kittenish back and forth meant more to him.

She noticed a change in him over the past few weeks. At first, she thought nothing of it when he ended his little parties a little earlier than usual. Curled up in her blankets and listening to Lizzo on repeat, she hadn't realized he was sending everyone home by midnight, simply because she hadn't cared to note the time. She only did because one night, she got up to cook some instant ramen after having not eaten all day and happened to glance at the time on the microwave. She didn't even notice back then that there weren't anymore cigarette butts on her doorstep or beer bottles piled in the corner. And she hadn't heard any fights or moans or horror movies in the middle of the night, either. No one even parked in her spot, at least that she knew of, because it would be empty when she came home. And while she appreciated it, she wondered if it was because he actually wanted to be friendly, or if was all just because of her temper tantrum a little while back.

When the sting of her breakup was still fresh and her tears were still free falling, she had been on the verge of snapping. Her shift at work was rough, what with customers acting out a little more aggressively with Valentine's Day approaching and with a late truck delivery that costed her, her whole lunch break, and a last minute call-out and a complaint about some bullshit she really didn't care for. And of course a car was parked too close to her space at the apartment so she had to literally crawl out of her window to get out. She didn't even return the greetings from the familiar people hanging around the stairs, she was so out of it. And all she wanted to do was eat something other than cup of noodles and sleep. But when she heard Shisui and his friends guffawing and shouting and honestly just having a good time, something in her snapped. She stomped into his apartment, just as she had on a handful of occasions and jabbed her finger into his chest, snarling at him that she had it with him and his bullshit.

They argued in a way distantly similar to their confrontation about his annoying sex partners. Except he was fully clothed, and apparently just as fed up with her as she was with him. Maybe she overreacted. Maybe she was taking out her anger and hurt and frustration on him. Maybe she was just being a bitch. It just felt right at the time, but when she saw that surprised look on his face when she thanked him a few days ago for helping with her groceries, and found that he still made her a plate after everything, after all her shit, the realization of her actions stung.

He was being nice to her.

She hated being that person, that neighbor.

But at the same time, something within her laughed at her expense, telling Sakura that she knew exactly why she put up with him, and he with her. She liked the attention. Even though he knocked over her flower pots and had friends who made a mess of their stairwell, and even though he liked blaring his music and arguing with his bed mates when she wanted to relax, she couldn't deny that there was something rather endearing about him. To think that he, Shisui Uchiha, spent a little time out of his day to do anything to catch her attention, even if it was bad attention, sent waves of flattery through her. But at the same time, she knew that listening to that traitorous voice in her head was never a good idea.

Cradling her face in her hands, Sakura sighed yet again.


Just Tonight


Shisui pulled his key out of of the ignition then fell back into his seat with a groan. The weeks had flew by quicker than he expected it to, the days seemingly blurring into one extraordinarily long day. Every inch of him was sore, every muscle tense from his earlier spar during kendo and long shifts and from bad sleep. If he kept up this level of stress, the tear troughs on his face would begin to resemble Itachi's. He shot forward to inspect himself in his mirror at the mere thought, grimacing.

He dragged his fingers through his hair in exasperation, taking another moment to collect himself, then stepped out of his car with his backpack slung over one shoulder. He stopped by his mailbox to grab his mail then made his way up to his apartment, frowning when he noticed the silver hell spawn sun bathing on one of the steps. He grunted, using the toe of his shoe to try to shoo the feline away but only succeeded in making Willow move up one step. A muscle in his jaw ticked at that, prompting him to growl at the cat and trying to goad it into getting out of the way; instead, Willow meowed in a pitch that seemed annoyed at him and bounded up the stairs, between his steps as if to trip him.

He ignored the feline and fumbled with his doorknob for a minute before managing to let the door swing open. He got a whole foot in before Willow darted inside, much to his annoyance. "Hey!" He called, really not in the mood to deal with his nemesis. He dropped his bag onto the couch in the living room where Willow curled up all comfortable despite the obvious tension radiating from him. They glared at one another for a stint, a tail lashing back and forth in challenge, before Shisui gave up and headed towards his bedroom, pausing to turn on his radio as he did.

Fucking cat.

Desperate mewls echoed down the hall in taunt.

Peeling his hoodie and his sweater off, Shisui rummaged through his drawers for a fresh shirt then stepped out of his jeans, leaving him in a pair of thin sweatpants. Satisfied with the level of comfort he now had, he moved to the kitchen, cursing loudly as he tripped over himself to keep from stepping on the troublesome cat when it darted out of nowhere. He was this close to locking her outside. He lit the stove and began pulling out everything he needed to cook the chunks of beef he had bought the day before and the noodles for the yakisoba, pausing when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Figuring it was Sakura, he shrugged and went back to cooking, humming to himself as he did so.

As he began mixing spices and sauces together in a bowl, Shisui heard music beginning to thrum from the other side of the wall, loud enough that he could hear it over his own music, but quiet enough that he wouldn't have noticed if not for his own bad mood. He lifted the remote to his stereo and raised the volume by a few notches so he could drown out the grungy lyrics that came from her apartment. He almost sighed in relief when he recognized the growling bass and the percussion of drums; it told him that she was starting to go back to normal—well, as normal as Sakura could get. He thanked the deities above for the lift in her mood as of late, because he really, really wasn't sure how much of her bad attitude he could take. How one woman could go through so many emotions and tantrums in a week, he'd never understand.

He tried to stay on her good side ever since her last fit, where she broke a bottle of Grey Goose and screamed in his face while on the verge of tears. That moment, seeing the unfiltered pain and hurt in her eyes paired with her rage, made him honestly pity her. He didn't think he could get that image of her on the verge of tears out of his head. So he tried to get everyone out of his place at a reasonable hour, tried to clean up their communal space and move her potted succulents out of the way when he sat on the stairs, but doing all that made him realize that he sort of, actually enjoyed being the center of her attention, even if it meant taking the brunt of her outrage.

A series of painstakingly loud bells went off then, yanking him violently from his thoughts; smoke was filling his apartment making him curse and hurry to turn on the overhead fan and open the windows. The fire alarm went off for a few more seconds before dying along with the smoke that came from the pan that once had been slicked with butter. He was lucky there wasn't any meat on it, otherwise he would've not only ruined dinner, but could've actually started a fire. Shisui ran his hands through his hair then down his face growling to himself. Poor Willow looked terrified as she cowered under his computer with her hackles high and ears flat. He approached the demon cat slowly, crawling onto his knees and holding out a hand in an attempt at comforting the feline, but she hissed and slashed at his hand with her claws.

"Fuck!"

His hand retracted to his chest where he shook out the bleeding appendage. He shot to his feet indignantly, mumbling about how much he hated the cat that had a strange love-hate for him and intending to wash his itching hand when he heard almost frantic pounding on his door. Settling for wrapping his hand in a paper towel, he went to answer the door.

He didn't expect Sakura to be standing there.

"Shisui are you okay?"

She genuinely looked concerned, if the knitted brows and down turned lips meant anything. Coolly, he leant against the door frame, closer to her so he could stand over her. "Yeah," He grunted, smoothly playing off the situation. "I just forgot to turn on the overhead fan." Her stare lingered over his hand which was still wrapped with bloody paper towels. Noticing, he jerked his chin in the direction of his living room. "Your cat is in my apartment again."

She hesitated, her lips pursed in a way that he couldn't help but notice. The she sighed and brought her hand to her face in exasperation. "I'll get her."

Shisui stepped aside so Sakura could come in, then after quietly closing the door, led her into the living room where Willow continued to hide. Sakura cooed and approached her pet cautiously, hoping to coax her out with a soft baby-voice she often used with her, but Willow had none of that and sunk her teeth into Sakura's arm the moment the pinkette reached around her body. She jumped back instantly, cursing as blood began to drip down her arm.

"Bitch ass cat," Sakura seethed, and Shisui swore if she had a tail, it would be lashing just as threateningly as Willow's. The demon spawn scampered off behind the couch now, leaving Sakura to fuss over her wounds with a scowl. Shisui, having predicted this, emerged from the bathroom with a clean washcloth while Sakura hurried to wash off her arm in the kitchen sink. He handed it to her wordlessly, watching from the entryway as she lathered soap over her inflamed skin.

"I told you that cat's evil," Shisui mumbled, leaning his shoulder against the fridge.

"She's never done that to me before," Sakura snapped. "Do you have any first aid stuff? Like alcohol pads?" He pushed himself off of his perch, movements almost lazy as he went to the bathroom and returned a moment later with a little red and black bag. He didn't speak as he propped it open along the counter and tore open a package of alcohol wipes for her. Sakura accepted the wipe with a quiet "thanks" then went on to gently dab the alcohol wipe over the fairly deep bite with a faint hiss in discomfort.

Shisui began recollecting his ingredients for his meal and went back to to prepping it while Sakura dealt with her injury. "The fire alarm probably spooked her," He theorized while whisking the spices and sauces into a broth. A few feet away from him, Sakura hummed in agreement. She threw her used wipe into the garbage can at the edge of the counter then rummaged through the first aid kit for a second wipe. Once she found it, she tore it open then approached Shisui without really thinking about it.

"Yeah, probably," She muttered, expectantly thrusting a hand out with the palm up. Shisui glanced at it but didn't offer his hand, much to her annoyance. "Give me."

"I'm okay." Sakura reached for him but Shisui gently swatted her hands away. He grunted when she tried to grab him again, moving his arm over her head and therefore out of her reach. "Sakura, leave it."

With her free hand on her hip, and the fingers of her proffered hand fluttering insistently, Sakura glared at him. "Just let me clean it real quick before it gets infected."

"I said leave it."

"God damn it Shisui. Stop being so stubborn."

"Stop being so annoying."

She huffed indignantly, much to his amusement. "You're cooking. You could get sick. Give me your arm now." When he made no move to do so and cantankerously kept his arm raised above her, Sakura jumped and latched onto whatever part of his arm that she could, bringing it down and making Shisui stumble from her actions. She dabbed the alcohol wipe over his fairly deep scratches immediately, before he could tear his arm away from her.

"Ow, shit!" He pulled away from her again. "What's your problem?"

Her face twisted in response. "My problem? You're the one who's always starting shit!"

He rolled his eyes in response, slacking back against counter and crossing his arms. He snorted, his sour mood growing with each word. "Yeah, I'm the one who storms into other people's apartments."

"Well if you weren't such an ass, and respected me and my living area, I wouldn't have to 'storm into your apartment'," She shot back, swaying her head and accentuating the tail end of her sentence with a stoic tone. Displeasure marred his handsome face then, and Sakura decided that it really didn't suit him.

"Do you hear me complaining when your cat shows up in my apartment, pissing all over my bed? No. Do I bang on your door when you and your boyfriend are screaming at each other? No. Just because you're pissed off about some prick who doesn't respect you, that doesn't mean you have the right to disrespect me."

They didn't speak for a while, just glared at one another while the tension thickened and swirled around them. And yet, between all that ire and frustration, something else lingered between them. Withholding a sigh, Shisui disheveled his hair with his hand, silently trying to figure out how to phrase his next set of words, while Sakura seemed to analyze him with a critical eye.

And then her lips were on his.

Shisui faltered for all of half a second before he returned her kiss with as much, if not more fervor. He took a few steps back as Sakura pushed him further into his hallway with her much smaller body, his hands on her hips making sure she shadowed his steps, until he found his back against the wall. Normally, he would've been the one doing the guiding, but Sakura had a strange strength in her that he found a little too exciting to douse, so he allowed it. His mind grew dazed with a thousand questions, wondering if this was real, or just another fantasy he was having in bed; his fingers dug into her hip as if to verify his thoughts.

He wasn't sure what brought this on, but he wasn't going to complain.

Her lips were demanding, full of a hunger that came from months of frustration which only made him groan in anticipation. She pressed her body fully against him now and dug her nails into the hairs at the nape of his neck, not that he minded. He rather liked this dominating side of Sakura when she wasn't actively trying to piss him off, but when she pulled away from him, peering at him with jade eyes half-lidded and dark with lust, he took it upon himself to push her right back. He lowered his mouth over hers before she could regain her breath then navigated backwards into his kitchen, towards the tiny center island he used as a dining table until her back was pressed against the edge of it. She nearly bent backwards over the glossy surface from the sheer force in which Shisui kissed her.

His tongue swept along her lips, not in search of permission, but rather out of encouragement, which elicited a soft hum from Sakura. She let Shisui taste every bit of her mouth, cracking her eyes open just enough to take in his expression as he nibbled on her lower lip. There was something just then, something about the way he knitted his eyebrows in concentration, about the shadows his enviously long lashes tattooed on his cheeks, that seemed to pour oil onto the flames that raged in her belly. His lashes lifted then, revealing just a sliver of onyx as he too, observed her through their kiss.

She pushed her hand against his chest, forcing him to relinquish her lips and leaving them connected by a fragile line of saliva that broke when he licked his lips. Hunger lovingly caressed her spine, beginning from her tailbone and traveling sinfully slow to the back of her neck, just begging her to run her fingers through his silky hair once again. She turned away from him so she could press her hands against the countertop in hopes that it's cold surface would quell her growing heat.

It didn't.

She had planned this, or rather something like this for a few days now. Something in her perspective had changed since her explosive breakup over a month ago, and although she wasn't sure if it was a sudden epiphany or an unlooked-for attraction stirred on by the change in Shisui's attitude towards her, but she would be damned if she didn't act on it. As much of a womanizer as he was, Shisui had always been a consistent figure for her, even if it wasn't always a positive figure. Coming to realize that maybe, just maybe, there were underlying motives behind his actions struck a match within her, and she wasn't about to let that flame go to waste.

Deep down, Sakura knew she was being selfish, but frankly, she didn't care.

His hands planted on either side of her, long fingers splayed out against the smoky countertop and his body towering over her. She paused, attempting to steady her thundering heartbeat and trying to figure out something to say. She could feel his arms against the crests of her shoulders, the probing of his hips as they fit against her, and for once she wasn't sure if she really wanted to push him away.

"Don't tell me you're getting shy on me now."

She felt his breath spanning the expanse of her neck, warming it down to the bone, while the tips of his hair tickled at her collarbone. Just picturing their position, imagining what their bodies pressed together like this looked like and could lead to, evoked perverted waves of excitement that rippled through her. Still, Sakura mumbled, "Shut up, Shisui."

He laughed, and it rumbled in his chest, sending residual vibrations running up her spine, then his thumb brushed against her pinky, coaxing heat into her chest. Lowly, seductively, he growled, "What's going through that head of yours, Sakura?"

Carefully considering her next course of action, Sakura resisted the urge to sigh, but took a half step back so she could press her back against his chest. He didn't tense or suck in a shuddering breath like she half-expected he would, but then again this was Shisui; he was always so cool and collected when it came to women. So instead he leant forward into her, comfortably, as if he were right where he was always meant to be. And in a weird way, she felt that to be the truth. She didn't say anything, just tilted her head back with the hope that he understood what she was trying to convey, because she didn't even know what that was.

His lips found her neck, pressing firmly against the soft skin and teeth gently scraping against her in contrast. A sigh tinged with pleasure left her at the contact, telling him without words that she appreciated his ministrations, so he responded by pushing harder against her. Sakura rocked her hips back to grind against him and he met her just as eagerly, entrapping her form against the counter and one hand moving to trace the softly slanting sides of her torso. A smoldering puddle undulated just below her navel at his touch, growing almost painful in intensity when she felt his growing arousal nudging her through his sweats. His roaming hand grazed over the lace of her bra with a fair amount of weight, almost roughly pawing at her, and the lack of gentleness in his touch was oh so gratifying. His ravenous fingers folded the lip of her bra down almost mercilessly before rolling a hardening nipple between them. Letting out a pleased breath, Sakura placed her hand over his to squeeze herself, which prompted Shisui to groan into her shoulder approvingly.

Feeling the fingers of his other hand tug against her shirt, Sakura eagerly pulled it up over her head while Shisui skillfully unhooked her bra in one swift movement. As soon as it fell to the floor, Sakura turned once more in Shisui's hold and hopped onto the counter; he helped her up despite the simplicity of the action, hardly doing anything at all and really only doing so just so he could touch her bare skin.

Once she was seated on the counter, Shisui closed the remaining distance between them, his hips meeting the inside of her thighs perfectly and his lips and tongue warring with hers for dominance. His hands slid down her sides and back, slowly but with purpose, ending at her rear where he scooted her to the edge of the counter so he could feel her—all of her—with all of him. A pleased growl began in Sakura's throat when she felt his hardening member jolt against her, and she squeezed her thighs around his waist as her own arousal begin to swell. Without breaking apart from their kiss, Sakura took his hand in her own and led it up her body to her breasts again while her other hand came to rest in the junction between his neck and jaw in a rather affectionate gesture.

There was a particular way his tongue nudged against hers that seemed to reveal a desire with the ferocity of years worth of agitation and salacity and just over all desperation. And knowing that Shisui had so much pent up carnality for her specifically made her blood boil.

"Shisui," She sighed when he pulled away, satisfied that she could feel his length twitching against her leggings again. He didn't respond to her breathless whisper, instead lowering just enough for him to place a kiss on the top of her right breast. His left hand kneaded her other, his thumb rolling over her nipple until it slowly pebbled while he crouched even lower so he could lick at the sensitive flesh beneath her breast, up to her other nipple. His tongue lapped at the pale bud, his teeth grazed it, his breath made it stiffen. Sakura leant back onto her free hand to give him better access to her chest without having to crane his body; he all but climbed over her, urging her to lay back onto the counter even when she flinched away from the cold surface. With her back now flat against the counter, she had no choice but to hitch her legs up and around his waist, and almost instantly Shisui's fingers caressed her clit through her clothes, drawing a heady moan from the back of Sakura's throat.

Adjusting his erection so he could purposely grind his engorged tip against her clothed opening as he thumbed her, Shisui drew his tongue between the valley of her breasts, up her neck and to her chin in one continuous movement. "Fuck Sakura," He breathed as he felt a hint of wetness in the fabric against his fingers. Then he kissed at the soft skin just beneath the joint of her jaw, affectionately, because if he didn't slow down, he'd just rile himself up for nothing.

In all the years of his life, not once did Shisui ever such a feel such raw, unfiltered need like this. Truth be told, he'd had his fair share of fantasies involving his rose haired neighbor, with some of them playing out almost exactly like this moment, but none of them could even come close in comparison to actually feeling her. His lust was so potent that it hurt, his body demanding that he touch her in every place and every way that he possibly could, and so he did. He brought his lips and teeth and tongue everywhere he could reach, relishing in the stuttering breaths of his lover and the almost painful grip she had on his unruly hair. His heart raced a mile a minute but he hid it well with confidence as he teased her nipple with his teeth.

His hand slipped under the waistband of her pants and the panties that must've matched her discarded bra and—oh, she was so wet.

Sakura's shoulders stiffened at Shisui's touch, causing her back to slightly arch from the counter. He had removed himself from the curvature of her neck to boldly catch her gaze, observing her intently with half-lidded eyes that were dark with yearning. She felt the pads of his middle and ring fingers sliding along her slit with just enough pressure for the tip to enter her, but not quite, which did little more than make her whine in displeasure. So she bucked her hips into him, impatiently demanding that he do more than just ghost against her with a warning, "Shisui!" He complied with a chortle, pulling her pants down just enough for him to comfortably insert his fingers into her.

She made a face at the intrusion, her expression a unique mixture between want and discomfort and pleasure, but wiggled out of her pants a little more and propped her heels up against the edge of the counter. The engrossment on his face was just so damn sexy, she couldn't stand it; she laid her arm over her face so it covered her eyes and blocked her blushing cheeks but Shisui had none of it. He grasped her wrist with his left hand and raised it above her head, pinning it down playfully. He curled his fingers as he thrust them then brushed his palm roughly against the bundle of nerves so Sakura would mewl aloud at the adjusting friction. After every few thrusts, he impishly withdrew his fingers so he could stroke the length of her womanhood and draw circles around her clit, much to her chagrin, but she allowed it. Shisui pumped his fingers at an average but powerful pace that made her body jerk and quake and hitched her breath, but the faint pain that came with it added to the fervid mood.

"You're soaked," He murmured.

Fed up with the teasing, Sakura wrested his hand from her waistband and sat up, ardently nudging him to move away, and he relented only so he could lead her further into his apartment by the hand. Sakura let him guide her, taking advantage of the moment of clarity to consider the weight of their next actions. It was with a strange how comfortable she felt, knowing exactly what she was walking into. Usually her heart would feel like it had risen into her throat and butterfly wings would flutter in her stomach, and self consciousness would make her nervous enough to fidget, especially when getting into bed with someone new. With others, she constantly felt the need to look sexy and perfect to the point of discomfort, but right now, half naked and stepping into Shisui's bedroom, she didn't feel anything less than confident in her bliss. Perhaps this was the effect of the Uchiha's relaxed character, or maybe it was of the level of familiarity between them. She didn't get the chance to ponder on that any further, however, because as soon as she entered the bedroom and Shisui closed the door behind her, the mood shifted into one with a different sort of passion.

Tentatively, Shisui placed his hands on either side of her face and coaxed her into another kiss. The initial flames of their arousal were still strong, but the primal desperation in their movements had begun to dither, replaced with a different kind of passion that made the need to explore itch. Sakura stepped into Shisui's embrace, simultaneously walking him backwards towards the bed centered against the back wall of the room. Enclosed in the bedroom, without the rumbling of the speakers in the background, the two of them were able to hear every single breathless hum one other made, which heightened their excitement to almost painful levels. Canting her head to the side for better access to Shisui's mouth, Sakura hooked her fingers around the waistband to Shisui's pants, prompting him to pull away long enough to step out of them and his boxers, then his shirt followed. She mirrored him, shedding the last of her clothing without a shred of hesitation.

They reconnected through yet another kiss, hands now moving freely, inquisitively along flushed skin. An unrestrained moan escaped Shisui's lips when Sakura's fingers wrapped around his throbbing member; his blunt nails dug into her back and shoulders as he restrained the urge to thrust into her hand. Sakura pulled away from his kiss again, opting to trail sensual kisses down his throat and shoulders, down his chest, until she was nestled on her knees and peering up at him.

The anticipation in his eyes encouraged her, as did the hands that threaded themselves in her pink tresses. Turning her attention to his member, Sakura idly slid her thumb along the tip, smearing the glimmering sheen of his arousal as it wept from him. Shisui's body quivered, as did his breath when the tip of Sakura's little tongue grazed against the head of his cock. Her eyes flickered up to him again at the movement, tongue wetting her lips before returning to taste the underside of his manhood. She licked from base to head, slowly but hungrily, smooth fingers gliding over his sensitive skin, and when she allowed just an inch of him into her mouth, Shisui let out a breathy, "Oh fuck" and let his head fall back in pleasure. One of his hands left her completely while the other traveled down from her hair to the back of her neck then to her cheek, where his thumb smoothed against her. She took the rest of him, or rather, as much of him as she could, into her mouth after a few kittenish licks and sucks. With his fingers once again tangled in her hair, Shisui urged Sakura to quicken her pace and bring him closer towards climax, eyes screwed shut and chest rising erratically.

"Sakura," His voice was an octave higher and broken with pants.

She hummed but did not stop. She never minded pleasuring her lovers in the past or what they tasted like or felt like against her tongue, to the point that some of them had taken advantage for her strong need to please. Deidara was one of them. Most nights with him were nothing but head and a few minutes of good sex that still somehow left her wanting more, but she never made to complain. She was a very giving lover, after all, so maybe those all those unsatiated nights could be to blame for her rising attraction to the man who currently tried to resist thrusting into her mouth. The thought of Shisui being reduced to such a state caused the pressure under her navel to compound further, tightening the coil that slowly raveled around itself.

So deftly, Sakura inclined her head and tightened her grip just slightly, then moved her hand with a fluid wrist. Her other hand gently smoothed over the skin of his balls, a finger gently sliding down the overly sensitive flesh between them. Shisui collected her locks into one hand in response, tenderly gathering them then wrapping the tail ends around his knuckles for a better hold. His thumb continued to brush tenderly against the back of her earlobe, in complete contrast to his tight grasp. After a few more vigorous bobs of her head, Sakura pulled back far enough to release his length; he thrusted into the air where she once was, a disappointed exhale shuddering into his chest. Sakura stroked his cock a few more times, slowly, but rewarded him with a few licks to the base of his shaft and testicles. With one last coy lick along the underside of his erection, Sakura rose to her feet. Instantly, Shisui released her hair and sat back onto the bed. He gazed up at her appraisingly, drinking in the soft curves of her body all the way from the crests of his hips to the dips of her waist, then to the delicate rise of her breasts. She wasn't sure where the condom came from, because she certainly didn't bring it, but she wasn't about to say anything about it. Once the condom had been rolled over his length, Shisui's hands flattened over her hips, trailing up to her chest so he could give them another playful squeeze, then moved around to her lower back. His fingers stretched over her ass, digging into them slightly, where he pulled her into him.

Sakura braced her knees on either side of him as they lowered onto his mattress, sure to keep their heated stares locked even when he pulled her down over him. Lowering her hips, Sakura didn't hesitate when she felt the head of his member probing her entrance. With one hand, Shisui aligned himself with her and teased her wet folds with his manhood while his other hand guided her onto him. A loud, almost criminal whine was torn from Sakura's throat as he sunk deeper and deeper into her heat until their hips fit perfectly into one another's. She didn't hesitate in setting the pace, rolling her hips and lifting and lowering and rolling again. Her hands rested comfortably on his shoulders, her manicured nails drawing angry, red crescents and lines across his back, and he reciprocated her marks at the back of her neck and hip. Whenever he felt that her light bouncing wasn't enough, and could feel that he was falling just out of reach of his climax, Shisui took it upon himself to pound into her, selfishly, greedily humming as her moans shattered with each thrust, then stilled when the coil in his stomach wound too tightly.

"Shi—Shisui—!"

His hands slid from their places around her waist and neck as he lowered his back against the mattress. He pulled her down with him so her body was flush against his and planted his heels on the bed frame so he could sink deeper and harder into her, basking in her change in octave when he slammed against against that familiar bundle of nerves. He could feel her walls pulsing against him, gripping him yet pushing against him all the same, and she was so wet that his thighs were slick. In his bedroom, without windows or other scents to interrupt them, he could smell her. She was musky and piquant and had a hint of citrus from her shampoo, and it had to have been the most intoxicating thing in the world.

Beginning to feel dizzy, Shisui forced Sakura to still against him; she didn't try to fight him, thanking him for the short breather with a kiss to the side of his neck. After a few beats, Shisui tapped her wingbone. "Lay down," He instructed. Their moans harmonized as she pulled away from him. She scooted further up on the bed then fell lazily onto her back; Shisui crawled over her, sinking into her heat once again with a shiver as she clamped down on him in welcome.

"Fuck Sakura," He sighed again. He rested back on his heels, hands pushing her thighs apart and back straight so he could get a good view of her as he sheathed himself within her. Sakura buried her hands beneath his pillow, clutching the pillowcases.

"Tired already?" She teased, grunting when his hips snapped against hers.

"Me? I could—" His breath hitched. "—go all night."

She didn't look away, even when the weight of his stare made her slightly self conscious. His face remained twisted in concentration as he studied every inch of her, his lower lip tucked between his teeth and his obsidian eyes were glossy with focus and seeing him like this made ever fiber of her being burn. He filled her so nicely, so satisfyingly, and he was so hot to the touch, even through the rubber material wrapped around his dick. And God, she loved it when he looked at her like this—like she was the center of his attention.

"Ah, you feel so good," He breathed, adjusting their position so her knees were hooked around his arms.

She cried out when he stroked that bundle of nerves again. "Oh, don't stop!" Sakura begged, writhing in his sheets. Shisui's thumb rubbed over her clit almost too roughly, making her body tense and jerk, but she didn't try to stop him because it just all felt too good.

Sweat rolled from his forehead, splattering against her chest and shockingly cold despite their growing inferno. "Come for me," He hissed. "Come for me, baby."

She tried to twist her body in the hopes that he'd hit that spot again. And he did, again and again and again until she felt that liquid fire swirl and rushed between her legs all at once. Her muscles clamped, pulsing around him, begging him to meet her over the edge, which made his movements grow rabid and sloppy. Curses spewed from her lips as she came down from her orgasm and he didn't stop. It all felt so good, it wasn't natural.

After a few more thrusts, Shisui's nails dug almost painfully into Sakura's thighs as waves of pleasure crashed upon him. He didn't still, but rode out his orgasm with a few shallow strokes, shivering and breathing heavily with his eyes closed. Finally, he exited her as quickly as he could, lest he be tempted to throw in a few more thrusts, and left the room. Sakura laid tangled in the sheets for a few breathless minutes, now laying on her stomach and trembling as the iciness of the room danced along her flesh. She could feel her thighs quivering still.

Alone, Sakura chastised herself for ending up in this position. She had been so, so selfish, to capitalize on Shisui like this, but she didn't think she'd regret it. She knew he wouldn't. Shisui sauntered back into the room with his hand already running through his hair, pausing at the side of the bed as if to take in the sight of her with that same, wolfish look that he always had. "So you're finally admitting it to yourself," He purred, knowing exactly what "it" was. He laid into the bed beside her and pulled the sheets up over his waist, his arms acting as his pillow.

She supposed her attraction for him wasn't a sudden or impulsive one that was brought on by her disaster of a breakup, but was always there, simmering underneath a lot of denial, waiting for the right time to show itself.

Sakura hummed to herself, inching just a little bit closer to him. He moved his arm so she could lay her head on it, then wrapped it loosely around her. "Just tonight."


Author's Note

And that's, that!

I have to say, it feels really good to be writing again. I just want to thank all of you that have been with me since the very beginning, and have loyally stuck by my side despite all the bad stories and boring plots that I've managed over the years. I hope that you guys enjoyed this story!

Don't forget to review!

-Amaya