My Bestfriend's Girlfriend
Chapter two
x
Sasuke was just sixteen when he first realized that he loved her.
Four long years after those bitter words he spat, he realized his crippling mistake.
He had been sick. Very sick, actually; running a fever of 103 and bedridden for almost two weeks. And as agonizing as it has been, between attempting to breathe through a clogged nose, swallowing against the raw tightness of his throat, buried under mounds of blankets that he had to constantly throw off in the midst of hot flashes—there was only one thing in the world that made those fourteen days bearable.
It came in the form of pink hair, rosy cheeks, and shy green eyes.
Everyday, she would come to his house. With her novice medical expertise, Itachi would reluctantly allow her a limited amount of time to spend at his bedside, where she cut up apples, brought him soup, fixed his blankets, laid cold cloths on his feverishly clammy forehead and replaced them when they grew lukewarm.
But above all else, beyond all the kind little things she had done, she would do this—this thing. This one, tiny thing that he will never forget.
She would enter his bedroom as usual, greeting him with a pretty smile as she clutched a bag of goodies in her hands.
'Hi, Sasuke. Are you feeling better yet?'
Beneath sweaty dark bangs, his heavy-lidded eyes could only follow her form in silence as she happily made her way to his bedside. She would plop down in the chair that she had brought into his room the first day she came to visit him, and after setting her bag onto the wooden floor next to the bed, after checking the progression of his fever and making sure he wasn't in any pain—
She would reach over and gently brush the bangs out of his eyes, away from his flushed cheeks, and then her small fingers would fall to his arm where she would absentmindedly trail them up and down his skin. So softly, almost ticklish, she would caress him in a way that made his already heavy eyes droop further.
But never did he take his eyes off her. Nor did he ever flinch away from her intimate touch.
Blinking slowly, he would simply watch her, watch him.
And in the serene silence, with her fingers lightly gliding along his flushed skin and their eyes never breaking away from one another—he realized he never wanted her to look at him any other way than the way she looked at him then.
With such an overwhelming amount of love and caring in those soft green eyes, his heart rate had sped up to an almost noticeable degree.
After a long while, when the sun would melt over the horizon and spill into the room and along his bed, she would fall asleep on him, fingers still and unmoving on his arm where she had fallen asleep mid-caress, long pink hair splayed over his covered abdomen, breath puffing out of her parted lips as she slept soundly.
With her cheek pressed against the cotton blanket on his stomach, he would reach out, brush his fingers through her pink hair and out of the peace softening her features, and just watch the golden sunset paint her beautiful face.
Everyday that she did this, his heart swelled just a little more. Slowly, but surely, as if those two weeks had been his god given trial of love, he began to come to terms with the strange butterflies in his stomach that he had always, until then, assumed was normal.
Bedridden and with no other way to distract himself, he had been forced to properly stew in his feelings, hard obsidian eyes focused on his ceiling. He had no other choice than to think about her, and the way her sweet scent lingered on his clothes, his blankets, his skin.
About how much he hated it when she left. And how much he missed her when she was gone.
And on the final day, two weeks later, as she had laid sleeping at his side this time, having crawled in bed with him after stubbornly claiming her immune system was made of steel, he had rolled sideways to face her and slowly removed her fingers that had fallen asleep on his arm after nearly an hour of her relaxing caress.
Intertwining his fingers with hers, he looked at her then. Really looked at her.
As if she could feel the weight of his gaze through the veil of her light slumber, her eyelids cracked open.
And when their eyes met, it was at that moment, with her an inch away from his face, with the sleepy affection in those glazed emerald orbs lit by the golden splash of sunlight peeking through the window behind him, and the sudden jolt of electricity shooting through his veins—it was then, as his pupils dilated and his heart burst into an unforgiving rhythm, that he realized that he loved her.
He loved her, he had to repeat to himself, startled by the incredible epiphany and suddenly short of breath.
It was as if the girl laying in bed with him had suddenly become an entirely different person. As if some blindfold was ripped off of his eyes, forcing him to see light in front of him—forcing him to see the girl before him not for what he had always thought she had been, but for what she actually was.
A lover. A wife. A future mother.
He saw it all flash before him—a vision with her swollen belly and him embracing her from behind.
A house, a family, a future.
I love her, his mind echoed. But he didn't just love her; all twelve years of their friendship flickered before his eyes like the whirring spool of film. Every time she was there for him, every time she picked him up when he was down, every time she looked at him as if he were the most perfect human being on the planet, every laugh, every smile, every time she held him in her embrace a little longer than what was considered just friends.
He didn't just love her: he was in love with her.
Through the rawness of his throat, he had opened his mouth to tell her just that—
'What the hell are you doing in his bed?' Itachi had snapped from the open threshold, suspicious and perhaps a little angry at the inappropriate scene he just walked in on.
And just like that, with her fingers slipping right out of his, she slipped right out of his future—she jumped from the bed and gathered her things, stuttering out a string of embarrassed apologizes before she scuttled out the door, ducking beneath Itachi's disapproving glare.
Later that evening, Naruto asked her to be his girlfriend.
She said yes.
Sasuke didn't come back to school the next day.
- x -
Now
"Sasuke?" Comes a muffled call from the bathroom, where she's been getting ready for the last half hour.
Sasuke pauses the show on TV and is off the couch and at the bathroom door within seconds. "I'm here."
Always, I am here.
"Can you text Naruto not to forget about dinner later?" Through the closed door, he hears her set something on the counter, perhaps a tool for her hair. There's a shuffle of noise that suggests she picks the object back up. He presses his ear against the door to hear better. "He forgot last night again and I—ouch!" The object clatters to the countertop.
The usual spark of anger directed towards Naruto is eclipsed by concern and Sasuke presses himself against the door a little more firmly. "Sakura? Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I just—ow. I accidentally burnt my finger on my straighter."
"I'll get you some ice." Sasuke is in the kitchen before she has the chance to protest. He knows very well she can simply run her finger under cold tap water, but as he scoops some ice from the freezer into a little baggie, he also knows that he will never waste a single opportunity to take care of her, no matter how small.
After all she's ever done for him, it's the least he can do.
So when he softly knocks on the bathroom door, a flood of relief warms his chest when she opens the door with a grateful smile as she accepts his meek offering. "You didn't have to do that, Sasuke." She scolds, but there isn't a drop of disappointment in her voice. "It's just a small burn. See?"
She holds up her index finger to prove it, showcasing the tiny red mark with a cheeky grin.
"I see." Sasuke says absently, eyes immediately flickering from the small burn on her finger to her body when he registers what exactly she has on—more specifically, what she doesn't have on.
His eyes fix on her deep cleavage, poking out of the skin-tight tank top clinging to her torso. And the faint outline of her nipples through the taut white fabric.
Sasuke jerks his head away, ears burning.
"I'll—I'll leave you to it." He pushes the baggie into her hands and retreats back to the couch as quickly as he came, snatching the remote off the coffee table and resuming the show he hadn't been paying attention to in the first place. He tries to pretend the image isn't now ingrained in his head.
Of course, there's been several times over the past six months of him living with the couple that he's encountered some serious close calls.
Such as once when Sakura hadn't realized Sasuke had been home, and had bravely strutted around the kitchen as naked as the day she was born, pink hair twisted up in a towel on her head.
And when Sasuke came around the corner, totally unprepared, he choked on his spit when he saw her bent over the fridge, several pages of notes to a case he had just been assigned bursting out of his hands in his surprise.
Sakura whipped around with an ear-piercing scream that had him covering his eyes and bolting away—only to blindly smack right into the kitchen wall just inches shy from the hallway. Stumbling backwards and recovering faster than he ever has in his life, he raced down the hall back to his room at lightning speed, door slammed shut.
Needless to say, after spending the entire rest of the day sitting through classes without listening to a single lecture—unable to forget the vivid image of her round bare ass and the exposed place between her thighs that he definitely saw—that same night, he couldn't help but slip a hand beneath his waistband the second he crawled into bed to release the pulsing need between his thighs that had been aching all day.
He came with shame, but it wasn't as if it was his fault that the girl of his dreams had decided to prance around butt ass naked in the kitchen, bare to his unexpected gaze.
Shuddering at the image that still teases his memory—and always will—he tries to ignore the pang of a arousal between his legs, shifting on the couch and hoping to find some semblance of mercy. He takes a deep breath and tries to fix his eyes on the show before him.
One might wonder why he lives with his best friend and the girl he's desperately in love with, especially considering the two are in a heavily committed relationship. One might wonder why he would intentionally put himself through this special kind of hell.
But the truth is, Naruto hadn't broken the news to him that Sakura would be moving in with them until the day of—after he had already gone and put down for the deposit and signed the lease for the apartment.
In which Sasuke had to lay in bed that very first night, along with many others to follow, and listen to the headboard slam against his wall from the other side, over and over and over again.
Along with Sakura's muffled cries of pleasure.
Sasuke's heart cracked a little more with every violent thump against his own headboard. Wide eyes fixed on the ceiling, he paled with the realization that he would be hearing this tortuous ruckus from then onwards. Traumatized, it was only then that he truly realized just how fucked up this living situation was.
He had simply snatched a pillow and pulled it over his ears. But it wasn't until long after they quit fucking that the glossy red sting of Sasuke's eyes retreated and he fell asleep with the pillow over his head.
Sasuke shifts on the couch once more, sighing heavily. And for a second, he thinks he might actually be able to relax—
"SAKURAAAA!" The boisterously dramatic voice from the entry way has Sasuke cringing. He reaches for the remote and turns up the TV by six notches. When Naruto reaches the living room, he greets cheerfully; "Oh, hey bastard."
Sasuke holds up a lazy hand in response, eyes straining to concentrate on the TV.
"Where's Sakura?" He asks, throwing his keys and book bag carelessly on the kitchen table.
"Bathroom." Sasuke replies curtly, before suddenly remembering something. He turns to look over his shoulder and says with a bit of reluctance, "Sakura said don't forget about dinner."
Cerulean eyes widen. "Shit."
His teeth clench at the idiot's ability to forget something that's clearly so special to Sakura, but he merely turns back to the TV without another word, knowing better than to involve himself with their personal buisness.
Even if he wants nothing more than to punch Naruto in the fucking face every time Sakura ends up crying on the couch, sniffling into tissues as Sasuke awkwardly sits on the opposite side, allowing her to lean into him and dampen his hoodie with her tears as he tries to figure out how to properly console her. Not that Sasuke minds being her shoulder to cry on, of course, but it absolutely kills him to see her crying at all.
Sakura shouldn't ever be crying.
"You forgot." Sasuke accuses simply, eyes foreward. "Again."
"Shut up, dickhead." Naruto's hackles raise, naturally on the defense. "I got busy with practice."
Sasuke scoffs. As if football is more important than your girlfriend.
"Naruto?" Sakura calls from the bathroom. "I'm in here."
The minute she opens the bathroom door, Naruto's arms are around her. He gives her a big squeeze before pressing a sloppy kiss to her mouth.
In the living room, despite knowing better, Sasuke can't help but secretly turn down the TV to overhear their conversation. Only because he has a feeling he knows exactly what's about to happen—after putting up with their drama for six months, he knows all the telltale signs of a brewing storm. He debates whether or not he should escape to the safety of his room.
"I thought you were going to be here an hour ago." Sakura says quietly after Naruto finishes his wanton assault on her mouth.
"I know, I know," Naruto pleads, "Coach held us over for practice."
Lie.
Kiba, who is also on the team, texted him over 45 minutes ago asking him to get drinks.
Sasuke's fist clenches around the remote.
"Oh, I'm sorry—I didn't know." She sounds guilty suddenly, and it only adds to the anger swelling inside the Uchiha. As if it's her fault. "Well, you're here now right?" She laughs forcibly. "We're still on for tonight . . . right?"
There's a silence that speaks volumes.
And then, with a tone of voice that Sasuke can tell without looking that he's scratching the back of his blond head: "Well . . . It's Friday night and I kind of already told Sai and Kiba I would go check out this new ramen and bar fusion place."
Despite expecting exactly this, Sasuke's heart still drops.
There's a tense silence on Sakura's end in which Naruto takes the opportunity to continue. "Babe, listen—listen, we've been talking about this place for months. I promise I can make it up to you this weekend or something—wherever you wanna go, I'll take you. I promise, I pinky swear."
Another silence.
Sasuke cringes in anticipation, wondering whether his once peaceful night will be filled with yelling, cursing, crying, or—
"Okay." A small, defeated sound.
"Yes!" Naruto cheers and Sasuke closes his eyes, feeling suddenly sick. "You're the best, babe! I love you so much!" There's the sound of smacking lips and then Naruto is galloping into the living room, hopping right in front of the TV and blocking the Uchiha's view. "Hey bastard, wanna come with? Sai said the ratings are supposed to be through the roof, I mean it's ramen and alcohol! You can't get much better than th—"
"Move the fuck out of the way." Sasuke snaps, unable to tame his tongue, craning his neck around the idiot's pelvis to try and make a show out of his blocked view. "I'm not going anywhere."
"What the fuck is your problem?" Naruto snarls, cerulean eyes bright with anger.
"You."
"What did I do to you?" The blond crosses his arms, pissed.
Stole her away from me.
Sasuke stands up with the guise of losing interest in trying to watch TV, but his obsidian eyes immediately drift to the closed bathroom door on the other side of the apartment where he knows Sakura is crying.
"Just go." Sasuke insists darkly, making his way into the open kitchen to rummage through the cupboards just for something to do with himself until Naruto leaves.
But Naruto is quick on his heels, trailing after him. "Seriously, what the fuck is your problem?"
"I'm tired."
"Then why didn't you just say that?!" Naruto groans. "That's no excuse to be a dickhead."
Sasuke remains silent, still pretending to rifle through the cupboards.
Naruto huffs with a disappointed shake of his head. "Whatever, man."
When Naruto disappears down the hall to change out of his football jersey and into party clothes, Sasuke quickly closes the cupboards and makes his way across the kitchen, leaning over to peek down the hall to make sure the idiot is actually in his room before he makes a beeline to the bathroom door.
A single knuckle taps on the wooden slab softly.
"I said it's fine, Naruto. Just go." Sakura's muffled meek voice comes from the other side.
"It's me, Sakura." Sasuke murmurs, eyes warily flicking to the hallway threshold just in case Naruto comes back. Not that it's any secret that Sasuke comforts her, it's more of the matter that he doesn't particularly care for Naruto to know just how often and how closely he does so.
There's a sniffle from the other side just before the door swings open.
The second he sees the flush of her cheeks and the gloss of her red-rimmed eyes, tears clinging to the smudged black of her eyelashes, Sasuke grabs her chin and tilts her face upwards, gently thumbing away the stray tear sliding down her cheek.
"Sasuke?" Her eyes widen in surprise.
"I'm sorry," He whispers softly, feeling helpless. He's never really sure what to say, but he'll be damned if he doesn't try.
She and Naruto have been in countless "fights" throughout the years, of course, but ever since they moved in together it seems they've just been getting worse and worse.
As of late, she's been merely submitting to Naruto's blatant carelessness. Instead of speaking out and fighting for what she feels, as if she's given up and the once roaring fire inside of her has been reduced to ashes, she shrinks away.
And if there's one thing Sasuke can't stand to see, it's her tears.
Sakura blinks up at him, another tear rolling down her cheek. Then, she smiles, twisting the rapidly beating heart inside his chest. "It's fine, if he's that excited about that place then it's not a big deal—"
She's trying to belittle her own feelings, green eyes dropping to the floor as if she's guilty.
Sasuke will have none of that.
"No." He says sternly, gripping her chin more firmly and forcing her to meet his eyes. "This is the third time this week. You guys were supposed to celebrate your anniversary a month ago."
At the reminder, fresh tears tremble along her eyes and Sasuke inwardly curses. He pulls her to his chest when her face winces with grief, winding his strong arms around her slender waist. Feeling utterly stupid for making her cry again, he buries his face in her hair, wanting nothing more than for the silent shakes of her body to stop and the wetness gathering along the front of his hoodie to cease.
At the sound of a distant door opening, Sasuke leaps away from her and hastily makes his way back to the couch just as Naruto enters the room.
"Well, I'm off." Naruto announces as he strides by, grabbing his keys off the table and disappearing into the entry way. Then, he calls: "I'll send you the address if you change your mind!"
With that, Naruto is gone.
Sasuke is back at the bathroom threshold before the front door closes with a heavy slam.
Sakura sits on the rim of the bathtub basin, eyes glossy and downcast.
"This . . ." She begins quietly before she lets out a self-deprecating laugh, "kind of sucks."
Unsure of what to say and a little awkward, as per usual, Sasuke stuffs his hands in his pockets and makes his way across the bathroom tile before he sits down next to her.
She clasps her hands between her knees, make-up smudged and hair straightened to perfection.
Sasuke knows just how much effort she puts into dolling herself up for her blockhead of a boyfriend, so he says quietly, as if it's any consolation, "Your . . . hair looks nice."
Sakura looks over at him with a small smile that makes him want to pull her into his arms again. "Thanks."
Without thinking, he blurts: "I'll take you somewhere," and then he quickly adds, after realizing how forward he may have sounded, "If you want."
Surprise lights her glum features, sitting up a little straighter. "Like where?"
He shoots his shot. "Anywhere."
- x -
Coincidentally, Sakura chooses a place she and Sasuke used to go on the regular, before they were even legal to drink.
It's a small cozy bar that sits on the East end of town where they used to meet up after class freshman year of college, when they had been eager to find a bar that had both waffle fries and fried tomatoes.
The atmosphere is lively, but not rowdy, and the twinkling neon lights inside the dim-lit room brings out the emerald hue of her eyes. At the far back of the establishment, a small DJ booth plays alternative music on a cramped stage.
Across the booth, Sakura flattens out her menu like she always does when she can't see the writing under such poor lighting, eyes squinting and teeth digging into her lower lip.
And as expected, she gives up and slides the menu across the table, pointing a slender finger at a particular item.
"What does that say?"
A teasing smirk lifts his lips. "Fried tomatoes."
"Oh, oops." She slides the menu back to look over it once more, laughing. "That's your snack. I want waffle fries."
"I know." He says, admiring the simple green spaghetti-strapped dress she's wearing. The curve of her exposed shoulders and soft collar bones catches his eye more than he cares to admit.
When Sakura decides on her order, she closes the menu. Then, she plops her elbow on the table and rests her chin in her hand, absently staring across the room with a wistful look in her eye. Looking over his shoulder, he follows her gaze to a couple in another booth who hold hands on the table top, all bright smiles and flirty cheeks.
Sasuke mentally strangles Naruto.
His eyes return to her face.
You deserve so much better.
"Hey." He tries to pull her attention away from the fact that her boyfriend of six years has all but tossed aside their anniversary in favor of ramen and booze. Feeling bold, he reaches across the table and pulls her wrist from her chin, holding it on the tabletop. "Don't think about it." Green eyes drop with shame. Sasuke leans forward, giving her wrist a reassuring squeeze. "Don't."
A heavy sigh escapes her and she looks up at him, eyes filled with unshed tears that has his stomach clenching.
"I think I need a drink." She mumbles.
"I can do that." Sasuke promises, releasing her wrist to flag down a waitress.
"Long Island." He orders for Sakura when a waitress stops by; her favorite drink. He glances over at her before also deciding, "and waffle fries—lightly salted." And then lastly, "Also a rum and coke. One check."
"Sure thing." The waitress says with a smile before disappearing.
"Uh—thanks Sasuke," Sakura blushes, face darkening beneath the rainbow depth of neon lights.
He reaches out to grab her wrist once more, lightly brushing his thumb along sensitive skin there. "Do you need anything else?"
"No, thank you." She says kindly, smiling a little bashfully at his sudden open display of affection. "What's gotten in to you tonight?" Her eyes flick down to the warm hand on her wrist in indication.
Sasuke instantly pulls his hand back, warmth creeping into his cheeks. He feels like hitting himself for being obvious. Maybe he was getting a little too bold. "What do you mean?"
She shifts in her seat. "Well, I mean . . . You don't usually take me out like this—" She hastily corrects herself, "—you haven't in a while, I mean. And you don't usually do . . . that, either." Her eyes dart to his hand in indication before she hesitantly asks, "Is everything, um. . . alright?"
"Yes." Sasuke averts his gaze, lightly clearing his throat. "I just felt like you . . . needed it, after tonight." He directly avoids the other subject of her observation.
"You mean, like a distraction?"
Something in his chest shrivels at that comparison, but he smiles slightly for her sake. If that's what she wants, then—"Sure."
To his surprise, she laughs, perfect white teeth exposed and face absolutely glowing with delight. "You did this to distract me from being upset?"
Sasuke shrugs awkwardly, unsure what to say. Because it wasn't just to cheer her up—he also wanted to spend real time with her, considering they haven't been able to hang out as often since school started and she and Naruto's back and forth drama has chased him into hiding in his room most of the time.
Especially when they fight. It's mostly uncomfortable for him, but even in the solace of his room, he can't help but overhear their angry shouts.
Their arguments have been steadily increasing in frequency, much to his dismay, and Sasuke wonders if they're just going through a rough patch. After all, he's never seen them argue this much in all the years he's known them. And even though Naruto has always been somewhat of a douche when he wants to be, lately Sasuke has been itching to put him in his place.
Because if he finds Sakura crying in the bathroom one more time this month, he's going to lose it.
Sakura laughs and it's music to his ears. "Sasuke," She shakes her head with a grin, "You know, this is probably terrible for me to say, and it's a bit embarrassing, but . . . sometimes I wish . . . instead of Nar—"
Sasuke's eyes widen beneath tousled bangs, but two drinks are placed in front of them before she can complete her sentence, saving her from admitting something that she may have come to regret.
Except, now he can't stop thinking about her unfinished sentence. She wishes what instead of Naruto?
"Thank you." Sakura smiles up at the waitress before sliding the tall glass to her lips, poking out her tongue to twist expertly around the straw before sucking it into her mouth.
Distracted by the strangely erotic sight, Sasuke forgets what he was just worried about. The stout glass of rum and coke sits untouched before him as he simply watches her suck down half the drink in one sip.
"Is it . . . good?" He asks curiously, eyes never straying from her puckered pink lips.
She hums in approval, eyes crinkled with a smile.
Sasuke's gaze flicks back up to meet hers and he nods with a small smile of his own, relieved. It's only then that he decides to take a deep swig of his own alcohol.
"You wanna try it?"
Setting his glass back on the tabletop, he folds his hands and raises his dark brows in amusement. "You want me to try your Long Island?"
She nods, gracefully sliding the drink across the table top. It clinks against his own glass.
"You know I don't like super sweet things." He tries to reason, a bit confused, considering she's known this fact since they were eight.
Her green eyes sparkle with an encouraging smile. Sasuke melts at the sight. "Just try."
"Fine." He acquiesces, as if he was really putting up a fight at all. He takes a hesitant sip.
Sakura bursts out laughing at the immediate disgust on his face. He hastily takes a swig of his own drink to wash out the taste, but despite the sickeningly sweet flavor coating his mouth, the inside of his body tingles at the sound of her joy, and the warmth in his chest has nothing to do with the alcohol.
"Your sour face is priceless," she giggles, "I just wanted to see it."
It's in this moment, with a playful smirk on his lips and the bright smile lightening her whole face, that Sasuke realizes just how much he has missed her.
It's only been a measly month since they've been able to properly hang out with each other. And while a month might seem like a short amount of time to some, when she isn't stuck to Naruto, Sasuke is used to having her by his side at all times; all teasing smiles and silly inside jokes.
Right along with the idiot, she's been at his side for sixteen years and counting; a month of her absence feels like an eternity.
He misses her.
And so he tells her exactly that.
"I miss you." He blurts without considering how those three words might sound out of context.
She stops laughing, confusion flashing across her pretty features. "What?"
Stiffening, panic flares within him and he recovers by taking a swift gulp of his drink. The burn of rum down his throat doesn't fix much. He throws head his back even further to finish off the alcohol before setting it back down.
When he realizes he doesn't know how to continue, he shifts uncomfortably.
"What do you mean you miss me?" Sakura asks carefully, frowning. "I haven't gone anywhere, Sasuke."
She doesn't understand.
Sasuke closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That's—I shouldn't have said—"
A basket of steaming waffle fries is set neatly in front of Sakura, stealing her full attention and saving Sasuke from having to choke on an explanation. She claps her hands together in delight, stars sparkling in her eyes.
Sasuke's eyes soften, chin resting nonchalantly in his hand as he watches her pop potato after potato in her mouth.
A quick hand reaches over and steals one.
"Sasuke!" She laughs, trying to grab it before he can put it into his mouth but he artfully avoids her grabbing hands—and he eats it.
"Another one?" The waitress offers when she returns, indicating to their empty drinks.
She and Sasuke exchange a look before Sakura answers with a smile, never breaking eye contact with the man across from her. "Yes, please."
A/N: Please don't forget to review and let me know what you think :D ~ Sloshi