A/N: I was honestly going to address the few rude flames I received, but I decided they're not even worth my energy. So anyway, here's a really angsty chapter. I probably should have mentioned that this story was actually loosely inspired by the roy/pam/jim relationship from the office. I hope that this fic is unique in that you really feel Sasuke's love for Sakura; I really wanted to convey what it's like to love somebody you can't be with. I apologize if you find any of these characters OOC, it probably seems that way since it's mostly Sasuke's POV. Where his feelings are typically a mystery, in this fic it's all out in the open.
Again, if this story is not for you, please feel free to stop reading at any time. (That wasn't me being passive aggressive xD)
P.S. In case anyone was worried, no matter how tragic this fic may seem, of COURSE there's going to be a happy ending! They deserve all the happiness in the world! So just hold on tight okay? :D
My Bestfriend's Girlfriend
chapter four
x
The first thing Sasuke notices when consciousness creeps into his psyche is just how terribly vivid his dreams about Sakura are becoming.
The second thing being the sharp pulsing pain between his temples—a hangover of the most irritating degree.
As usual, the guilt of having wet dreams about his best friend's girlfriend squeezes his heart, even if he knows deep down that Naruto doesn't deserve her in the least.
But it isn't like he can control it. His mind does what it wants. And it usually only wants one thing, and one thing only.
Her.
So it's no surprise to him when he feels his arousal stirring between his legs as he recalls the graphic dream, reliving all of the dirty little details. Instinctively, he reaches down to relieve himself of his sweet misery—
Only to realize he can't move.
His eyes snap wide open.
It's only then, in that moment, that he registers the warm slender body splayed on top of him, trapping him against his mattress and snuggled up to his chin. With his right arm pinned beneath her waist and holding her against him, all the air in his body whooshes out of his lungs in paralyzing shock.
The next thing Sasuke realizes is that they're both completely naked.
Sasuke's world comes crashing down in a matter of seconds and he's all at once struggling to breathe in his sudden panic.
No, he thinks behind the incessant pounding in his skull, no fucking way.
Swallowing against his thundering heartbeat, he looks down at the mess of pink locks tickling his chin and the serene sleeping face of the woman in his arms.
Carefully, slowly—so painfully slow—Sasuke attempts to retract his arm and slide out from underneath her. Lightly shifting onto one side, he tries to wriggle away just enough to free himself.
When a soft moan escapes her lips, Sasuke stiffens and freezes, closing his eyes in silent prayer that she hasn't just awoken from his small movement.
After a long, tense silence in which she remains completely still, Sasuke thanks whatever God is watching over him as he very carefully slides out from underneath her, positioning her on her side.
When she is finally off of him, Sasuke shoots straight up into a sitting position, burying his face in his hands with shame and confusion, chest heaving.
Because there's no way that this is real.
And then, as if that single thought triggers an onslaught of vivid memories; last night flashes before his eyes in a fast forwarded blur—the drinks, the laughs, the teasing, the reminiscing, the dancing, the kissing, the overwhelming feelings, the aggressive need, the desperate fingers and glazed eyes full of want, her sweet voice screaming out his name and begging him to fuck her harder—
"Oh, shit." He whispers under his breath, every second of realization worse than the last. "No . . . No . . . No . . . "
This isn't real, he insists despite the evidence before him. It isn't real.
But when his palms slide down his face and he glances over to the beautiful sleeping woman just beside him, the ghost of a smile on her lips, it's the realest thing he's ever seen.
As he stares down at her, however, his heart clenches with the sudden desire to crawl back under the blankets, wrap his arms around her, and lay in bed with her for the rest of his life.
And never come out.
The urge to kiss those sleeping lips makes him cringe with shame. He covers his eyes once more, as if he can hide himself from the mind-blowing disaster he's just created.
There's a dull, sharp pain between his shoulder blades where angry red lines stretch down his skin, a physical souvenir of their treachery.
'Fuck me.' Her hot, throaty voice begs in his ear, distant yet unmistakably definite in his mind.
Naruto's smiling face flashes through his memory, a reminder of who he has just stabbed in the back.
And then six years worth of images and memories of Naruto and Sakura flicker behind his palms; a million kisses, one thousand hugs. A billion I love you's and a trillion forever and ever's.
The talk of marriage and kids—
Jesus Christ, what the fuck have I done?
He's just ruined her future. His best friend's future. And his own—just like that.
There's no rewind, no undo; just Sasuke, his unrequited love for the naked woman beside him, and the biggest fuck-up of their entire life.
"Sakura?!"
Sasuke startles, head snapping up. Panic bursts in his chest and explodes in his stomach at the sound of Naruto's call just outside.
"Sakura? Are you here?"
He's too focused on controlling his breathing to notice Sakura's eyes fluttering open. She blinks several times, disoriented, before she slowly sits up.
"Mmm . . . Sasuke?"
It takes her a moment, but when she finally comprehends that she's completely naked and that her bare breasts are open to his horrified gaze, terror twists her sleepy features and her eyes blow wide. She snatches at the blankets to cover her indecency. "What the f—?!"
Sasuke is quick to clamp a hand over her mouth.
Fingers trembling, he presses his forehead against hers and whispers frantically, "You have to be quiet for a second, just—just for one second. You have to trust me."
The horror in her eyes echo his own, and it's then, as she stares at him as if he's turned into a monster, that he knows the night before is flashing before her eyes like it did his moments ago.
When tears begin to gather in the corners of her eyes, his heart breaks.
"Sakura," He breathes, voice saturated with shame and a hidden plea for forgiveness. His hand leaves her mouth to brush a falling tear from her cheek. "Listen to me—"
She pushes his hand away and leans back, bare chest heaving beneath her white-knuckled grip on his blanket. The betrayal in her eyes is bright and clear, making his chest lurch with so much regret that he feels bile rise up his throat.
Eyebrows cinching, she opens her mouth—
"Sakura?"
They both snap their heads to the door that is wide open.
And when heavy footsteps make their way down the hall and toward his room, Sasuke quickly throws himself over her, pinning her beneath him and hiding her small frame. He pulls the covers over them just as Naruto steps into the threshold.
"Sasuke?"
To Naruto, the covered lump on the bed before him looks as if Sasuke is sleeping on his stomach, obsidian hair poking just outside the blanket.
Beneath him, Sakura trembles with silent sobs, dampening his bare chest with endless tears that make Sasuke's own eyes sting. He presses his naked body as flush against hers as he can, trying to offer her some small amount of comfort. He tries to ignore the soft swell of her breasts against his skin and the humiliating fact that his morning arousal involuntarily hardens between her legs at the feel of her naked flesh.
Swallowing, he calls out with the guise of having just been woken up by the blond's inquiry: "What do you want?"
"You're still sleeping? It's like noon, dude. Don't you have class?"
Sasuke clenches his teeth, not quite giving a flying fuck about school right now. Clearing his throat, he calls out: "I'm sick, idiot. Get out of my room."
When another violent sob wracks Sakura's body pinned underneath him, he leans back just enough to see the grief on her face as she cries silently, eyes squeezed shut and tears streaming down her cheeks. She looks broken, so torn with anguish that tears dangerously tremble in his own eyes.
I did this to her, he can't help but dread, stomach tightening with the horrifying fact. I did this to her.
"Don't do that." He leans in and whispers against her lips, voice strained. Distressed obsidian orbs flicker over her whole face.
Please don't cry.
"Have you seen Sakura?"
Sasuke continues to stare down at her heart wrenching expression, watching with sloped eyes as tear after tear races down the sides of her face and soaks his sheets. "I think . . . she went to campus early for breakfast."
"Oh, okay. I texted her and she hasn't messaged me back. I feel really bad about last night and I'm worried she's mad at me. If you see her, tell her I love her and that I'll take her out tonight, okay? I'm heading to class, so I'll see ya later."
Sakura cries harder and this time a dry sob almost breaks out of his own mouth as he croaks: "I will."
"I hope you feel better, bastard. You're no fun when you're sick." Naruto laughs before he reaches forward and shuts the door.
A guttural cry falls from her lips and Sakura sobs violently, entire body shaking with harrowing remorse as if the sound of the door closing unleashes the real anguish she had been holding back.
Sasuke cups her face in a panic, quickly thumbing away her tears but does nothing to stop the single one that threatens to fall from his own. His chest hitches with a restricted sob.
"It's going to be alright." He whispers as if they both hadn't just stabbed their best friend in the back in the worst possible way imaginable—as if they haven't just basically ruined their lives. In a desperate attempt to console her, he brushes his fingers through her tear-soaked hair and hesitantly kisses her cheek, her nose, her forehead.
But she doesn't stop crying.
She cries and cries, every whimper more heartbreaking than the last.
Because she's just thrown away six years of her life with Naruto, and endless years that were still to come.
"I—cheated." Sakura finally manages through hiccups, "I cheated, Sasuke. Oh god, I cheated on him—!"
Unsure of what to say at this point but willing to do anything to stop her tears, Sasuke simply rolls them over and pulls her back onto his chest, cradling her head against his racing heart and running his hands though her hair.
Through the tight walls of his throat, he finally tells her: "I am so sorry, Sakura." He swallows what feels like shards of glass, "I never meant for this to happen. I was drunk—"
At this, she rips herself from his grip and sits up to glare down at him, shoulders still shaking. "Sasuke—" she hisses through clenched teeth before she pauses, lips trembling and eyes widening with a terrifying thought. As the memory of him ordering her continuous drinks flashes through her mind, she doesn't want to believe it. Although irrational, it's the only conclusion that seems plausible. "Did you plan this . . . ?"
Sasuke scrambles up on his elbows, eyes wide.
"No!" He snaps, heart exploding with fear before his voice drops to an incredulous whisper. "I would never—"
She shakes her head, holding a hand to her forehead as her eyes tighten with pained frustration. "No, I know you would never do that, Sasuke. I'm sorry I don't know why I . . . I'm just—I'm jumping to conclusions, I'm so fucking confused right now. This is all my fault—"
"I would never hurt you." Sasuke breathes, deep voice laced with disbelief and a hint of betrayal, as if the assumption itself fractures what little trust now lays between them.
She stares at him for a long moment, letting the situation sink in and weigh heavy on her heart.
"Why . . . " She breathes finally, more tears spilling over her cheeks. The glossy redness in her eyes makes the emerald hue of them shine so bright that for a moment, Sasuke is inappropriately lost in the beauty of them. She hides her face in her hands, whispering once more. "Why?"
"Do you regret it?" He blurts stupidly, despite how obviously fucked up the question is—he doesn't know where the question comes from, but it's out of his mouth before he can stop it.
Her hands fall from her face to reveal the icy shock on her features. "What did you just say?"
"I asked," he swallows nervously, sitting up more properly and unsure why he ever opened his mouth, "Do you regret it?"
And that's when he sees it.
That small window of a second where the truth flashes across her face. The hesitance in her eyes.
'No.' Her eyes say.
Hope swells in his heart, eyes widening.
As expected, however, a moment later she barks: "Of course I regret it! I'm living with my boyfriend of six years, Sasuke! Your best friend! Have you lost your mind?!"
Yes, he thinks, he has.
Because he suddenly finds that the hesitance he saw in her eyes, no matter how small or how fleeting, changes everything.
Eyes still swollen, she sniffles angrily.
Feeling strangely confident, Sasuke reaches out to caress her cheek—slowly, as if he were about to pet a rattlesnake ready to strike—and tests his new theory.
Sasuke stares into her eyes, closely studying her reaction. And when his knuckles gently touch her cheek, he watches as the rigidity of her shoulders slacken, watches as the corners of her puffy eyes soften—she melts under his touch.
And then she blushes.
His breath catches in his throat and before he can stop himself, he's leaning inwards, eyes flickering against her own with awe.
In his peripheral, Sasuke sees her swallow.
Carefully, he then lifts her chin, angling her lips to the ones that are drawing imperceptibly close to hers. Watching for any sign of rejection to flash across her eyes and heart pounding when it doesn't, their noses tap—
And then he tilts his head, closes his eyes, and presses his lips against hers so agonizingly soft that they both shiver.
He draws back slightly, cracking open his eyes to gauge her reaction.
"Sasuke," She breathes against his lips—and his name is so heavy with repressed desire that he slams his lips against hers; this time with a confidence that has his hands in her hair and tongue slipping into her mouth. He lets himself taste every part of her for the actual first time.
A sober kiss—a real kiss.
Their first real kiss.
What's more: she's kissing him back, tongue swirling in his mouth with just as much urgency as his own. His palms splay on either side of her throat and he inhales sharply through his nose, the force of his kiss heightening in time with his desperation.
I love you, his mind whispers between every slope of their lips, feeling as if his heart is about to burst. More than anything.
Stay with me.
Be with me.
As their lips continue to crash against one another, his hands slowly move downward where he tugs the blanket from her firm grip. The fabric pools at her waist, leaving her upper-body exposed to him. Carefully, he cups her bare breasts, filling each palm with the soft weight of her mounds. She whimpers into his mouth when he squeezes them, body leaning into his palms as if she wants more.
Sasuke's cock is instantly hard, control already slipping. A delicious ache twitches between his thighs. Far more awake now than he had been earlier, the explicit memories from last night comes flooding back, makes precum bead at his slit and his legs tingle with anticipation. She was so tight, so warm and wet, he remembers. She cried out for him. She wanted him. It was an experience unlike any other he's ever had in his entire life.
But he doesn't want to fuck her this time.
Sasuke wants to make love to her like he's dreamed about his whole life; slow, sensual, passionate—he needs her to feel his love for her, if not through his words but through his actions.
He needs her to know that what happened last night wasn't the result of some short-term conquest.
He needs her to know that he would do anything for her.
He needs her to know that he would cross oceans just to hear her laugh.
Sakura herself feels hot liquid surfacing between her thighs, where she's painfully sore from the unforgiving girth and length of the man before her. Her inner walls pulse with the memory, clenching and unclenching as his tongue slides around her mouth.
Overwhelmed with arousal, Sakura secretly slips a hand beneath the blanket to ease the ache, running her fingers along the slick mess between her folds as he continues to gently squeeze and knead her breasts.
Sasuke opens his eyes partly, glancing down to see what she's doing between them. When he realizes that she's openly playing with herself, his eyes widen before he growls with approval, dropping a hand to grip his own throbbing desire and shuddering when she quietly moans into his mouth.
They touch themselves as they continue to swap saliva, paces accelerating along with their lips. For a moment, they forget who and what they are and what they're doing. Over and over; their lips meet. With heads tilted and tongues rolling around one another, they are not in Sasuke's room, but rather some perfect place they've never been.
Where they're supposed to be.
Hearts hammering in sync, Sasuke tugs and twists himself as Sakura frantically rubs the sweet spot between her legs. His tongue sweeps her whole mouth, ravenous with greed; swallowing the sweet flavor of her urgency as she blooms before him, coming to life with a roaring flame that has been long since dormant.
There's a secret in the eager way her tongue rolls around his, in the way she falls into him as if giving into a guilty pleasure; a message in which the phrase actions speak louder than words pluck at his heartstrings.
It goes without saying that she has let her guard down before him, the unspoken wall between them crumbling brick by brick with every heartbeat.
She's giving herself to him in the shape of vulnerability; trusting his mouth, his lips, his fingers as his thumbs flick against her pebbling breasts. With his heart as her guide, she lets him lead her over the edge until she's free falling before him.
He's there to catch her when she falls, free hand flying to the arch of her back as her lips fall open against his with a stuttering cry. And then he's all at once falling with her; release snapping, liquid spurting from his pulsing length and onto the blanket between them as a broken hum spills from his open mouth to hers.
But when her climax retreats as fast it comes, Sakura breaks the kiss with a start, pulling away with shock on her features and tears in her eyes. She claws her hands over her face, teeth clenching as she shakes her head. "No—God, no, Sasuke! What the fuck are we doing?! What am I doing?!"
Sasuke's heart cracks with disappointment despite knowing very well what they've just done—again. The impossibility of what he truly desires, what he really wants and what they can never have, makes the lingering euphoria of his orgasm dissipate into a swirl of dread.
Sasuke looks away.
Sakura pinches the bridge of her nose, attempting to regain control of the situation, grasping onto any rational explanation. "I think maybe we're just . . . confused right now. Or—or maybe we're just still drunk or something."
Concern flickers to life in his eyes as they snap to hers. "You're still drunk?"
Sakura frowns, hesitating. And then she softly confesses, "No . . . Are you?"
"No."
A silence rings between them, staring at one another as comprehension ticks behind their eyes. Emerald locked with onyx, he watches with bated breath as a string of emotion flickers across her face—confusion, hesitance, disbelief, incredulity—
Until, finally: fright.
Sakura hastily scrambles out of his bed, nearly flopping onto the floor when she trips on her attempt to drag the blanket with her to remain decent.
Sasuke swings himself off the side of the bed and stands up, ready to help collect her stray clothes—
"Sasuke!" She gasps, slapping a palm over her eyes when she sees all of him. "Oh my god!"
Flustered, and a little confused by her behavior considering the obscenity of what they just did, he immediately sits back down and covers himself with a pillow. Her sudden shyness makes him feel strangely embarrassed.
Then, he watches her scoop up her discarded clothes, wincing when she holds up her ripped bra, flimsy red lace frayed and irreparable.
"Really?" She scolds, another round of tears burning in her eyes as she glares at him. Her cheeks are as pink as her hair. "The one bra Naruto actually bought me?"
Sasuke quickly looks away, ears heating at the memory of ripping it off of her body. He shrugs.
Obviously, a drunken Sasuke is an impatient Sasuke.
She takes a deep breath. "Please turn around so I can change."
Sasuke covers his eyes.
"Turn around, Sasuke." She insists. "Please."
Sasuke turns his whole body around, eyes still covered.
"Thank you," He hears her say, and then far more softly, "We have to . . . talk about this later. I really just—I need to think right now. This is so fucked up, Sasuke. I cheated on him. I really—I really cheated."
We cheated, Sasuke inwardly corrects, knowing he holds every bit as much responsibility as she does.
By the crack of her voice, he knows that she's crying again.
"I have to tell him."
Sasuke stiffens, just catching himself from turning around in shock. "No, that's not—"
"A good idea?!" She finishes for him, anger burning her throat, "Yeah, well, neither was THIS! What the hell do you expect me to do, Sasuke?! Lie to his damn face?!"
"You can't tell him!" Sasuke hisses in alarm, the sickening image of betrayal on his best friend's face churning his stomach. Once he tames his sudden panic, he says more gently, "Not yet."
Silence.
He repeats softly, "Not yet."
". . . Sas—"
"Sakura." He implores, jaw tight. "Just not . . . yet."
Because he doesn't need to be a fortune teller to predict the inevitable; he knows what's going to happen. And without a doubt, it will involve fists, blood, stitches, and all the things Sakura doesn't need to see. Sasuke doesn't want to fight to Naruto, despite the intense impulse now and then with the way he treats Sakura, but he knows if Naruto finds out what they've done, he will come after him with everything he's got. And so, too, will Sasuke.
If Naruto comes after him, Sasuke isn't going to hold back.
It won't be pretty; but more than anything, he can't risk Sakura being in the way. If she were to throw herself between a flurry of fists, there's always a chance she could get seriously hurt—by them.
Sasuke isn't an idiot, he knows Sakura better than he knows himself. She would launch herself between them; she would do anything to stop them from beating each other to a bloody pulp.
After all, she's done it once before.
He will never take that risk again.
There's a ruffle of clothing, the drop of the blanket to the floor and then—
He hears the blanket flop back onto the mattress, and by the time he deems it safe to turn around, the door is already shutting behind her.
Hesitantly, Sasuke pulls the blanket over top of his naked body and lays back down, headache returning full throttle and heart tugging in a million directions.
The second he tries to close his eyes, however, the night before flares to life in his hazy memory.
He remembers the dazzling smile she wore as she danced in his arms—the joy in her eyes as he twirled her around.
He remembers the warmth of her lips sealed over his when she leapt right into his arms, fingers tangled in his hair.
He remembers the deep messy kisses, filled with such genuine longing and passion that he knows is impossible to deny, impossible to fake.
He remembers how wet she was for him.
It was all real, he remembers.
She wasn't just drunk; it wasn't just some spontaneous one-night stand all because her stupid boyfriend couldn't get his priorities straight.
The sparkle in her eyes when she looked up at him, the pure happiness on her face, the giggles, the flush of her cheeks every time he stared at her a little too long. That silly little tapping of her foot.
All night, she had smiled and laughed. All night, she had displayed the body language of someone who—
His eyes snap open with a start.
The more he thinks about it, the more he remembers; the more solid the truth becomes.
And when he thinks about the hesitance he caught in her eyes just before she touched herself with him—
Sakura still loves me.
- x -
The next four weeks are torture.
Clearly, she has yet to tell Naruto anything if the way he's still being his stupid cheerful self is any indication—and the fact that Naruto hasn't tried to bury his fist in his face.
Although Sasuke is somewhat relieved that they have yet to face the inevitable consequences, he can't help but feel his stomach drop every time the three of them are in the same room.
At first, uncertain, fleeting glances are exchanged between them every time Naruto has his back turned, every time they think he isn't looking.
Their dirty little secret hangs over them like a rumbling storm cloud, following them every where they go.
They never speak about it; never bring it up. It's swept under the rug, just like those words he said to her all those years ago.
But then, one day, Sakura stops speaking to him altogether.
When she passes him on campus, instead of jumping to hug and greet him with a bright smile like she usually does, she ducks her head and whooshes right past him.
She takes his heart with her as she goes.
At the dinner table, her guilty green eyes avoid his, poking at her white rice as Naruto blabs about his perfect play at the football game. As Sasuke pretends to listen to the blond's overly edited story, obsidian eyes drift to her. The weight of her guilt pulls at his heart from across the table and the emptiness in her green eyes as she stares down at her half eaten dinner makes him lose his own appetite.
As the three of them sit on the couch and watch some cheesy flick they've already seen dozens of times, Sakura makes a point of curling into Naruto as if he can protect her from her own mistake. She angles her knees away from Sasuke who sits beside her, leans her whole body away from him like he's some parasitic spider.
Elbow on the armrest and chin in his palm, Sasuke strains to watch the movie before them, attempting to block out the woman next to him and trying to pretend like he doesn't notice the exaggerated expanse between their bodies.
He gets fed up by the middle of the movie.
Eyes hard, he stands and retreats to his room where he closes his door with a little more force than he intends.
Naruto doesn't notice the teardrops that soak his shirt, or the way his girlfriend peeks over his shoulder to glance down the hall.
When Sasuke enters the kitchen, she instantly drops whatever she is doing and makes her way back to her room.
She avoids any room of the house he's in as if he carries the plague.
They don't mention their inside jokes, don't share teasing smiles, don't hold each other's eyes from across the room like they once did.
She doesn't send him pictures she used to find on the internet that make her full-bellied laugh carry down the hall from her room and through his open door. She doesn't call him on her way home from her hospital shift to ask if he's eaten already or if she should stop and get him something.
Sakura asks Naruto to get the sugar down from the top shelf instead of him like she always does; 'It's because he's taller!' She once had to explain to a sulking Naruto, and the smug smirk on the Uchiha's lips would make her giggle uncontrollably.
She doesn't bring him a glass of water and sliced tomatoes like she used to when she passes the open door of his room and notices how hard he's studying at his desk, countless cases and files splayed out before him.
Every time she turns her back on him, every time she goes out of her way to avoid him, every time she averts her gaze from his searching one, a piece of him breaks a little more.
Because he can't live like this.
Sakura is not only the love of his life, but aside from Naruto, she is also his best friend. These days, he thinks she's even more of his best friend than the idiot himself.
And as the days run by, his life slowly dwindles into a depressing grey blur of guilt and self-loathing.
He's distracted, his perfect grades are falling for the first time in his life. He wakes up in the middle of the night thinking that she's crying beneath him.
The world is colorless; too little pink and too little green.
Downtown, he passes the coffee shop they used to escape to between classes; sees the apparition of the two of them just on the other side of the glass, her head thrown back with a laugh as he tastes her sickeningly sweet latte. He sees the love burning in his own eyes as his former self watches her from across the table. He wonders if he's always been that obvious. He wonders if she's ever noticed.
On the edge of campus, he strolls by the bench swing she used to make him sit on as she worked on her laptop next to him, bench slowly swaying in time with the leisure pump of her legs. When she had been too absorbed by her medical jargon to pay him any attention, he would lay his head back and carefully place an arm behind her, closing his eyes against the warm sun as the soft breeze lulled him to sleep. Her presence beside him was all he ever needed to feel at peace.
Little moments they've shared hits him when he expects it the least. Torturing him, taunting him—a whisper of simple memories that hold significance where in any normal mind they would not.
The memories only amplify in her absence, springing to life in every corner of his heart, every last one of them an unbearable reminder of what he has lost.
In the library, he can't read a single line of his notes without hearing her drunken giggle, can't highlight a single sentence of his book without her heart wrenching sobs echoing distantly in his ears—
His elbows come down on the table and he buries his face in his hands, shoulders rigid with the realization that nothing between he and Sakura will ever be the same again.
He feels as if he's gone crazy.
He hates himself.
He's went and dug a grave under his own two feet.
The strange looks from the other students around him go unnoticed.
- x -
The days bleed into weeks, and before they both know it—another three weeks goes by.
Neither of them speak.
Neither of them make eye contact.
It's gotten to the point where Sasuke's stomach is turning before he even enters the apartment, knowing that Sakura's cold indifference will be waiting for him on the other side of their front door.
There are so many things he wants to say as he passes by her shuffling form in the kitchen, eyes drifting to the back that has now been permanently turned away from him.
But he strides by with hands in his pockets and head down, swallowing every word.
Sasuke doesn't quite blame her for refusing to speak to him; it's awkward, it's strange, it's uncomfortable. He's a constant reminder that she's a cheater—it's easier for her to pretend that he doesn't exist rather than acknowledge her own fault.
He would be angry if he wasn't quite doing the same. For as desperate as he is to speak to her, he doesn't.
Together, they form an immeasurable distance, forged by cowardice and their reluctance to communicate; polar opposite of their previous friendship.
He starts to wonder if he can simply let go, if he can manage to shut her out for the rest of his life, just as she seems to be doing to him. After all, Sasuke knows being madly in love with a girl he can never have is emotional suicide. It's unhealthy, it's fucked up, it's everything that's wrong with him.
He's never felt such agony; hates it with every fiber of his being. It's as confusing as it is humiliating, knowing one girl has this much power over him. He's diseased with guilt, sickened by his growing obsession.
Finally, Sasuke comes to the conclusion that he doesn't want to love her anymore.
So he tries to imagine life without her, even goes so far as to look for a new apartment, hellbent on never looking back and determined to throw away all sixteen years of their companionship.
But when he accidentally opens up an IM tab between the two of them, his breath hitches when he sees her last message, dated just two days before their coupling:
'Good luck on your exam, Sasuke! You'll do great, as always! xx'
Above it is a picture of her, holding up a peace sign and a smile so achingly beautiful that Sasuke has to shut his laptop.
- x -
Naruto has noticed. At first, the blond likely thought the two just had a stupid argument, as they've had only one or two real ones in the past. But naturally, the small irrational feuds between he and Sakura never lasted more than a day or two. And it was never over anything as serious as their current predicament.
The first time Sakura had ever gotten mad—truly mad—at him was when they had been seventeen.
It had been at some party, and a stupid one at that. He, Naruto, and Sakura had decided to show up late, have a few drinks, enjoy themselves for a few hours, and then head home.
Nothing crazy.
At the time, Itachi had just bought him his first car; a snazzy sleek ride that Sasuke was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet to drive.
And so he had quite generously offered to be their designated driver, and since they were drinking underage, he was given the explicit responsibility to make sure nothing happened to any of them.
But then someone offered him a drink. And young, naïve seventeen year old Sasuke, who had never before consumed more than four drinks in one sitting before, figured one drink wouldn't hurt.
One drink turned into eight, and when the night was over and it was time to go, Sasuke staggered to the driver's side of his car parked on the curb, keys nearly scraping the black polished paint as he drunkenly tried to jam the keys into the lock.
'What the hell are you doing?!' Came Sakura's gasp from the porch steps.
Sasuke waved a dismissive hand as he called to her from across the yard. 'I called my brother and told him to pick you up.'
He purposely omitted Naruto, petty spite slipping through his intoxication.
'You told Itachi we were drinking?!'
Sasuke shook his head before he staggered forward, grabbing onto the hood of his car to keep his balance.
'No, I just . . .' He then proceeded to stumble backwards, hands flying out to maintain his equilibrium. 'I told him you needed a ride. I can't risk driving you home, Sakura. My brother will get you home safely. I've had . . . a few drinks, but I can drive myself home just fine.'
He hadn't even finished explaining himself before she had marched across the yard, fists curled. She rounded his car, eyebrows cinched with anger. Hair curled, lips glossed, and shirt cropped; she looked like the goddess of wrath coming to bestow upon him divine punishment.
'Are you telling me you plan on driving home drunk?!'
'I'm not drunk,' he slurred even as he wobbled on his own two feet, far more drunk than he had thought he was at the time. 'Just a few drinks. I'm not leaving my new car here.'
Sakura grabbed him by the collar of his black sweater and tugged him downward, fury crackling in her radiant green eyes as she forced his face to hers. 'Have you lost it?! You're completely wasted, Sasuke!'
'I'm not,' he insisted angrily, trying to pry her dainty hands from his chest. When she didn't let go, his own temper flared, emotions magnified under the influence. 'Let go of me, Sakura!'
'No!' Her fist twisted tighter into the fabric, determined to keep him in place because she knew if she let go, he would try to climb into his car. 'You're not driving anywhere!'
'Let—go, Sakura!' He tugged and tugged, but either his power had been dulled by the alcohol or she had ridiculously terrifying strength.
'You'll end up fucking killing yourself!'
'I told you I'm fucking fine, Sakura!'
But when he finally managed to pry her hands off of him, having zero balance, the sudden release of resistance threw him backwards. He fell hard onto the road, head smacking the asphalt. Sakura was kneeling at his side in seconds.
'Oh my god, Sasuke! Oh my god! Are you okay—?! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—!'
Properly pissed, he pushed her worried hands away before he angrily snatched the keys that had fallen from his hands and clambered back onto his feet. He shoved the key into the lock, blatantly ignoring Sakura's grabbing hands as she tried to pull him away from the door.
'Sasuke, stop! You can't drive right now—!' Her screaming protests were cut off by the slam of his door once he settled in. When she reached for the handle, he promptly locked the doors. Her fists pounded on the window, tears rolling down her cheeks. 'Sasuke, please! Please don't do this! You're drunk, Sasuke! Open this door right now!'
He sat unmoving for a moment with his hands on the steering wheel, incoherently trying to process the situation and confused as to why Sakura was so fucking angry with him when he was obviously fine.
Looking over at her tear-streaked face painted in fear behind the window as she continued to pound, his heart clenched. He didn't know why she was so upset, but no matter how much he wanted to, even in his intoxicated state of mind, he couldn't bring himself to just leave her like that.
He unlocked the doors.
Not a moment later, Sakura threw open the door and climbed onto his lap, straddling his thighs as her arms wrapped around his neck. She sobbed into his nape, fingers threading into his dark locks as she cradled his head against her shoulder. 'Don't fucking scare me like that, you idiot!'
He blinked heavily, but the thing Sasuke distinctly remembers about that moment four years ago is the scent of her shampoo and the fact that she was sitting so intimately in his lap. She was so warm and she smelt so good; it was like being hugged by the physical embodiment of spring.
But above all, he remembers thinking how much he loved Sakura: the seventeen year old girl in his lap whose arms were wrapped around him like a vice, protecting him from his own stupidity, even despite his childish temperament.
Sasuke's arms snaked around her waist, pulling her even closer as he buried his face in her hair. They sat embraced in his car; her crying and him unable to see straight.
And then his brother came twenty minutes later.
Which hadn't been pretty when he found out what his little brother had been trying to do.
Looking back, he finds it hard to forgive himself for letting her go out of her mind with worry that night. Young, reckless, and still simmering with unforgiving jealously at she and Naruto's fresh relationship at the time—he made a lot of stupid mistakes.
"What's with you and Sakura?" Naruto asks one day in the Student Union while Sakura stands patiently in line for her own lunch.
Sasuke shifts uncomfortably, eyes glancing to her form across the room before he reaches for his water bottle as if it can protect him from the idiot's imprudent curiosity.
"Seriously, I haven't seen you guys talking in weeks. I mean I know you guys are super busy and all, but you guys always find a way to make time for each other." He frowns and crosses his arms. "Is there something you guys aren't telling me?"
Sasuke splutters on the mouthful of water he's just attempted to swallow. A vivid image of Sakura spread eagled and gorgeously messy before him flashes in his mind.
Naruto blinks before tossing him a napkin across the table to clean up the liquid that has just spewed from the Uchiha's mouth. "Hey! Don't choke, bastard. It was just a question; if you guys need to sort something out, just do it already. I'm tired of seeing you both moping around and sucking the life out of the apartment." His voice grows eerily quiet then, cerulean eyes distant and dejected. Dread stirs in Sasuke's stomach, "I tried asking Sakura about it but she never seems to want to open up to me anymore."
He inwardly winces.
"It's nothing." Sasuke dismisses.
Nothing personal.
- x -
As Sasuke lays in bed and stares up at his ceiling, he clings to the hesitance he saw in her eyes that day, back when they both woke up confused and disoriented and lost. He holds on to the magic of that night, back when he twirled her around the dance floor to her favorite song, drunk and free and happy.
She was so happy, he remembers.
He plays that evening over and over in his head each night before he falls asleep, disgusted with himself despite the persistence of his broken heart.
But most of all, he thinks of the morning after, when they intimately touched themselves together as they kissed—soberly, he might add. She made the rational decision to kiss him, touch herself, and whimper right into his open mouth.
However, his mind always circles back to one truth, and one truth only:
She let him kiss her.
And she kissed him back.
- x -
A/N: Please don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you think :D ~Sloshi