A/N: you knew it was coming...
Every time Sarada thought she made a decision, something happened to push her in the opposite direction. For a moment she thought she could just wait, but the expectations of her parents and now the anticipation of the editor-in-chief of The Kohona Times made everything seem so urgent.
And somehow gave this decision even more weight than before.
Sarada wanted to be smart, wanted to think about the long-term when it came to her career path, but whenever she was with Boruto it felt like that's all her heart could focus on.
It was early in the morning, the sun still climbing its way over the horizon, but Sarada wasn't tired. It was funny the way she had started adopting his habits the more time she spent with him, waking up early, and even silly things like drinking protein shakes.
Boruto had some time before he had to get over to his practice facility, so Sarada sat on the counter beside the stove with a sleepy smile as she watched him cook them each an omelet. She was dressed in one of his big t-shirts and a pair of long socks.
He was dressed in even less. Her dark eyes appreciatively roved over his muscled form. "You like what you see?" Boruto teased when he caught her stare.
Sarada turned her head to hide her shy blush and attempted to change the subject, never liking to admit how attracted she was to him. "What do you have planned for the day?"
"Just my usual strength training and then a meeting with my manager. There's only two weeks until the Kumo Invite, so he wants to talk about our media strategy. I'm expected to be in quite a few interviews after my races and he wants me to have some answers prepared." Boruto told her, plating the first omelet and handing it to her.
Sarada nodded as an ugly, guilty feeling churned in her gut and soiled her appetite. Her article was also due to be released during the first day of the Kumogakure Invitational, on top of the fact that she'd likely be sent to cover the event itself.
Dark eyes stared down at the omelet, just the way she liked it. Boruto was surprisingly observant, picking up on her preferences in so many things.
His brow furrowed at the look on her face. "Is something wrong? If you're not hungry you don't have to eat it."
"No, no," she mumbled with a shake of her head before glancing up to meet his sweet blue gaze. "It's perfect, thank you. I was just thinking I'll be busy soon going to Kumo to cover the Invitational too."
Which was half true.
"And cheer me on?" Boruto asked with a soft smile as his hand slid up the length of her bare thigh.
Sarada set her omelet down on the counter, in favor of grabbing his shoulders and pulling him closer, allowing Boruto to situate himself between her spread knees. "I don't know about that one, as a journalist I can't be playing favorites, I have to be objective," she teased.
He gently bumped his nose to hers with a light laugh, but as they stood there wrapped in each other's arms, his face began to soften like an unpleasant thought had occurred to him.
It was several moments before he spoke up again. "Not that I plan on losing or anything, but if I did… do you think you would still… ya know, like me?"
"That question runs on the assumption I like you in the first place," Sarada laughed. But when Boruto just smiled sadly, she realized that was an honest question.
Did he really think she (or maybe everyone) would just up and leave if he lost a race? That anyone's interest in him was completely dependent on his victory?
"Hey," she began her tone much more serious than before. She cupped his cheek in her hand, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Win or lose, it doesn't matter to me."
Blue eyes watched her thoughtfully for a moment as if absorbing her words and deciding to believe them. But then his mouth twitched up into a genuine smile and Sarada couldn't help the urge to guide his lips to hers in a tender kiss.
Boruto had told her he wanted to win, wanted to be the best, but the thought that it was because he felt that was the only way to earn the love he yearned for was so poignant, so relatable, it broke her heart a little bit.
Soon what started as a soft, reassuring kiss began to grow in intensity. Sarada set aside her sad thoughts with a breathy sigh as his warm hands pushed up her big shirt.
With his grip firmly on her waist, Boruto pulled her toward the edge of the counter. Their hips met and she could feel the evidence of his growing arousal, rubbing against her center and igniting her desire.
She loved to tangle her fingers into his blonde hair and pull him even closer, feeling the breathy sighs against her lips as she gently massaged his scalp. Their tongues tangled together in a passionate dance.
Her head fell back against the cabinets with a sultry moan as his lips trail down the length of her neck. He peppered kisses down her neck, playfully nipping at her racing pulse.
Maybe it wasn't his habits that were making her a morning person, maybe it was all the incentives he offered.
A healthy breakfast and an early morning romp was certainly a great way to start the day. Though her omelet was cold by the time she got around to eating it, it was tasty.
As much as a good influence Boruto had been on her in terms of healthy habits, Sarada was beginning to worry she was a bad influence on Boruto who ended up running a little late that morning after they took a longer shower than either had intended.
He left her in his apartment by herself, which was a new sign of trust that simultaneously made her heart flutter and feel terribly unworthy. Boruto was showing more and more signs that their… relationship (she couldn't really deny calling it that anymore) was important to him and here she was still on the fence about publishing a piece that would very well hurt him.
Sarada had recently sent a draft to Karin, to at least prove that she was working and not just twiddling her thumbs, but she was stretching the truth on several things and downplaying their interactions significantly.
Even typing it out was difficult and underscored that she really couldn't publish and then promote something like that. She just needed to figure out a new but just as impressive story.
The problem was time wasn't on her side.
Sarada returned to her office after a lunch date with ChoCho, still feeling heavy. She wanted to confide in her best friend the impossible situation she trapped herself in but became too embarrassed to say a word.
She was definitely the kind of person who always had their shit together, it was hard to ask for help period. It was even harder when the trouble she was in was of her own making.
With another tired sigh, Sarada pushed open her door to her office, asking herself for the millionth time what she should do. Dark eyes blinked in surprise at the visitor seated behind her desk. After the busy day he described having that morning, the last thing she expected was an appearance from Boruto.
"Hey, what are you —?" Sarada cut herself off the moment he looked up.
Never had she seen that look on his face before. His blue eyes lacked their usual sparkle.
Each breath became harder to inhale as she noticed the red pen furiously clenched in his right hand. The printed stack of paper before him noted, scribbled, and exed out beyond recognition.
His first words to her were like a sucker punch. "You know you say I "lure women into bed" with my fame, but don't insult me Sarada, my good looks have something to do with it too, right?!"
She couldn't breathe, it was like all the oxygen in the room evaporated and she was left standing there gasping for breath.
Her limbs suddenly lost their strength and all her belongings slipped from her arms and dropped onto the floor. "Where'd you get that!?" were the only words her shocked brain could form.
Boruto didn't respond, instead, he leveled her with a harsh glare and looked down to begin reading another excerpt from her piece. "A healthy dose of determination may serve Bolt on the track, but when applied to his personal relationships — or might I say physical relationships as it seems he has nothing more than a slew of meaningless one night stands — that determination to be with any woman of his choosing comes off as sheer entitlement. Because who wouldn't want the honor of sleeping with golden boy, Bolt Uzumaki?"
"Boruto, please! You have to—" she tried to step forward but the cold glare he sent her had Sarada frozen in place.
"I'm not done." He declared and continued reading. "This journalist personally experienced Bolt's relentless advances and let me just say his performance in the bedroom isn't breaking any records."
Hot tears began welling up in her eyes as her lips struggled to form words of apology or explanation, she wasn't really sure, but she needed to say something!
But Boruto wouldn't give her the chance. He stood up from her desk, staring into her eyes with unwavering disdain. "Really, Sarada?! Really?! On top of all that you really had to go and say I'm a bad fuck, too?!"
He then began aggressively flipping through the pages of her marked-up draft. "But if that's true, where's the part where you tell your readers why you kept coming back for more, huh? It certainly wasn't my bedazzling personality, you made it clear you think I'm a complete piece of shit, hardly even worth your time! So there must have been some reason why you kept taking off your clothes for me?!"
Uncontrollable sobs wracked her body as Sarada began to fear her knees would give out and just collapse under the weight of her secrets and bad decisions. She choked on her words so unsure of what to say. She had no defense.
There was nothing to say, nothing that could justify her hurtful words.
"Well, it might be something you contemplate while you sit at this desk that I fucked you on," Boruto spat, unwilling to wait for her blubbering response. He lifted the small stack of marked-up papers and tore them in half, letting them fall to the floor.
He stepped forward to storm from her office, but Sarada grabbed him by the arm desperately trying to get him to stop and listen for one second. "Wait! Please, Boruto! Just let me explain!"
But he ripped his arm from her hold. "No, let me explain something to you, Sarada! Every relationship I have, I have to wonder if it's conditional upon me being famous or being the best at my sport. There's a skepticism I have to have with every fucking person I interact with and it's not even like other famous people are an exception because so many of them want relevance even worse!" He swallowed harshly and she could see he was fighting back tears of his own. "But you know what's so fucking pathetic about this entire thing?! I thought you were different!"
"Boruto..." she whimpered.
"Win or lose, it doesn't matter to you, right?! Spare me your bullshit! I'm sure I already gave you plenty of juicy details for your article."
"It's not like that! I swear!" she pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks. But he was past the point of listening.
"My lawyer already has a copy of this piece and if you publish even one word of this fucking garbage you call a cover story I will sue you and this magazine for libel. So good luck with your career in serious, hard-hitting journalism Sarada," he sneered sarcastically. "I'm sure the editors at The Konoha Times won't laugh a gossip columnist like you out of the room."
Her lips parted, inhaling a sharp gasp. His words were like a punch to the gut.
But when he walked away and didn't turn back, it hurt even worse.
A/N: wahh! I know, I know, I'm sorry! I'd love to hear your thoughts and reactions is this how you thought things would go down?!
also, if you need something sweet and fluffy to heal your pain, please check out my new holiday one-shot, Unexpected Gifts & Unspoken Confessions!