Doll: Chapter 1
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There. If he pushes hard enough, he can get rid of this skin she hid in and maybe - maybe -, tonight he'll get to wash off this disgusting perfume off of her with his own scent.
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Uchiha Sasuke
It's hard to say when she stopped being a kid. It's not like she changed physically. She still was skinny with no curves; her petite figure reminded you more of a twelve year old boy than a girl in her twenties.
Guess it was all about her manners and the air surrounding her, as well as those small things that seem to not matter, that made her boyish silhouette suddenly seem so attractive and elegant. Twenty-two years old Sakura's hands, though still marred with microscopic scars and dirt and paint, were more ladylike now. The movement of her long fingers was precise and patient, unshakable. Whereas, back when she was nineteen, before the sudden change, her hands displayed more of her unsure self (when she was not performing well in her arts class you could notice a slight shake in them, she used to knock her fingers multiple times on the board to get rid of the tension).
Yeah, the subtle but still noticeable difference was there. He is sure of that now when he looks at Sakura's said fingers confidently tap twice on the glass of Irish Sour mixed with extra Gin for the old barman Jean to get a hint to repeat.
"Merci.."
The pub they met up at is small, but clean and dim lighted, it's mostly empty on weekdays so they have enough privacy to create an intimate atmosphere, the gentle lullaby of jazz playing on the radio behind the bar pulls a comforting background noise, filling awkward pauses in conversation and supporting the general air of a chilly Thursday evening spent with an old friend to catch up and share a drink or two.
Although, in their case there is no conversation, no comfort, no friendliness, no intimacy. Sakura is generally the nervous one between the two of them so she tries to dissolve the intensity of the current situation by smiling at Jean, an old small French man, the owner of this small pub, joking about the old guy's habit of putting too much ice in her cocktail and meanwhile sipping through her third drink, all in the first twenty minutes of her arrival.
None of her words are directed at Sasuke, none of her soft glances last long enough for him to actually tell what the fuck is going on in her mind.
He doesn't like not knowing what she is thinking about.
As he watches her critically while she stares ahead with no visible worry, he can't help but think about a different time, when he was not so blinded by thirst for success and her natural sweet scent was not overpowered and well-hidden by this particular perfume which he decidedly does not approve of. It smells of power and cold fury and sweet acid.
It is attractive but so opposite to her natural scent it makes bile rise to his throat. Something told Sasuke it was especially there for him. He's hit by the memory of the way his bed sheets smelled after her stay. Like sunshine and wet ground and sneaky cigarettes shared behind school and the overwhelming and unmistakable hint of sandalwood.
His own smell of sandalwood on her skin.
"I do believe you still smoke?"
No, he quit smoking. It's been more than a year actually and she knows it, but still offers a pack as she lights a cigarette for herself.
"Thank you."
He takes it so there could be some kind of comfort to this evening. The slight tang of the smoke is familiar which Sasuke is grateful for; after all, there is a stranger sitting in front of him.
There goes their first civil tête-à-tête in years.
When she first entered the pub Sasuke was surprised to find himself not shocked speechless or simmering in regret and guilt and all the other things to come. Instead he was overwhelmed with some kind of joy and relief and it was like the last three years was a blurry dream, like finally in came clarity, finally after passing through a desert of snow and eternal darkness of an endless night, a subtle hint of a sunrise glinted on the edge of the horizon, finally drunken sleep could sooth his restless rigid body.
Thankfully Sasuke had enough time to arrange his thoughts before she spoke to him at all, since after her entrance Sakura made a beeline for the seat next to him acknowledging his presence only by ordering a repeat for his whiskey and staying silent for as long as possible.
"So," She starts, "I heard you came back for good."
Sasuke's dearest aunt, a brilliant woman indeed, was great friends with Sakura's mother, another energetic brilliant woman. This fact was something they were never allowed to forget and what kept them updated on each other. Aunty May was always fond of little Sakura and scolded her nephew every time the subject of their complicated relationship came up. Which was as often as she called him. As if Naruto and Ino pestering them for the last three fucking years was not enough.
Although Sasuke expected her to be far more crushed since she was the one who stayed in their hometown, not the one who left family and friends and a very special someone for law school. She was the one who was constantly surrounded by familiar places and childhood friends and family who constantly reminded her of their unfortunate end.
"That's true. I'm staying."
"You didn't like the city?"
"New York is too hectic for me."
She laughs. It's not genuine. It's polite and easy. Sasuke had never heard it, but the sudden release of throaty sound from her mouth is welcome. It still brings back memories of her laughter; her laughter; a breathy, throaty, full and a painfully young sound.
Young. God, she was so young. That was always the problem with her.
"You consider Small Heath calmer?"
She has a forced but somehow still relaxed smile plastered on her face. He is overwhelmed with a desire to kiss if off, smack her out of this skin.
"I find it familiar." I take a long hit and watch her as her mouth twists in a bitter shape of a faded smile.
"Well," She takes a swig to finish off the remaining contents of her glass, hissing softly at the bitterness and gesturing Jean for another one, "I did not expect you, of all people, to appreciate that quality."
Going in for the kill?
His next words are a shock to himself, after all, Sasuke promised to spend a completely dry, polite evening with her, chit-chat, catch up.
"Oh, but you know how I appreciate you, Doll;" he gulps down his own drink satisfied by the burning sensation traveling down his throat. "Another one."
"And you know, how I don't appreciate the sarcasm."
"I was not joking, Doll"
She throws a curious glance his way. Sasuke notices how her tongue slips out to wet her lips.
'Fuck, that's familiar.'
"I want to do something stupid right now," his eyes never leave her soft peachy lips.
She shakes her head softly noticing his intent gaze directed at her sweet mouth.
Some things, it seems, never change. He still can't control his words while speaking with her. This time she is not surprised. Guess she expected it.
"You've already done enough." She took a patient hit; Sasuke felt the cheap tablecloth hanging on the bar top shift slightly. He could tell she was clenching her thighs together; And was overwhelmed by a sizzling desire to force his larger hand between them, just to see if he has the same effect on her as before.
"And don't call me that..." He heard her murmur that part.
It was what they came here for after all.
To talk truth after all those lies for all those years.
Dolly was Sakura's childhood nickname. It was a cruel one at that, for it was placed upon her in a malicious intent by other girls to mock the ugly duckling. For Sasuke it was an endearment. She, with her flat, but petite and elegant figure, weird shade of strawberry blond chopped hair and cutely asymmetric forehead, was the most beautiful thirteen years old creature in town.
"You can't deny me this, Doll." He's not mocking her; actually Sasuke says this with utmost regret. "You're not mine. Don't deny me this much."
"You weren't mine either."
He laughed. It was not strained or forced. It was genuine and bitter. She was so fucking stupid, god, she never really knew what she did to him.
Her facade did not break. Though he could feel the air around them freeze.
"You're a fucking idiot." he felt all the humor and patience disappear from him. Fuck, he could feel the smooth skin of her knee suddenly against his thigh and it was driving him mad.
But first thing's first. Passive aggressiveness: "I was an only man in your life. You are not ready to even let me fucking give up on you. We both know I will never stop, but let's not deny how much you love it;" he moves closer, whispering in her ear, trapping her in a hovering embrace between his arms and the bar. His large hands are holding the edges of her seat from both sides; fixing her small ass in one place unmoving. He rests his weight casually on his arms propped up on her chair right around her outer thighs and leans even closer his hot mouth a hair's breath away from her collarbone. "Fuck, I can smell it all over you". His raspy voice filled with longing does it. Suddenly there she is. His personal favorite doll. Pretty and damaged.
Nothing like Ino's and Naruto's and Sasuke's Childhood friend. Nothing like Sasuke's partner in crime. Nothing like Sasuke's tutor for his senior year finals. Nothing like his first ever girlfriend, little Sakura, devilish and infuriating and innocent and stubborn and coquettish.
"And yet, you're not mine. Not anymore"
This is the Sakura hissing poisonous words to him through the phone in the middle of the night during his first year in New York, when he was not strong enough to fight off homesickness and his aunty was filling him in with infuriating news from back home of little Sakura finally going on a date with some douchbag, when he kept calling her until she picked up way too late in the night for his comfort.
She told him awful things every time something like that happened. And somehow, every once in a while Sasuke would find himself aroused by her pure malice. By her anger and her furious voice whispering taunting words from the other side, by her sheer hate and desire to cause damage. All directed at him.
Sasuke would furiously touch himself thinking of how he could be there, with her right than, how he could be banging her against her perfectly white bed sheets, how he could beat the crap out of that douchy Kiba for keeping her out this long.
Where did they go;
What did they do;
Did they kiss;
Did they fuck;
Sasuke recalls that particular night with odd fondness now.
'I've been calling you for five fucking hours!'
'We were on a fucking date, you dickhead!'
'You were fucking him on that fucking date!'
'And what if I was Sasuke? What you gon' do, huh? You gonna come back home just to fuck me and mark your fuckin' territory, like that time on Christmas?
Sasuke did go back home on spring break and fuck Sakura to mark his territory while their friends were downstairs at his childhood home having fun at the get-together party.
Sasuke looks at her now.
Her cheeks are tinted with a blush, the corners of her lips freezing and a short twitch in her eyebrows. Her tongue slipped out again to wet her bottom lip and fuck, this was so familiar!
"Sasuke, I think… I think this is a mistake," her neat facade cracks. He smirks. The familiarity of him winning does it and more of her comes out.
Keep going.
"I was just a little girl and you were a jerk and it was kinda… like- kinda like what we, me and my girlfriends used to talk about on sleepovers all those years ago... I thought I was being bold and daring and all those things I wasn't and wanted to be... 'cause bein' with you was exciting. But now it's turned into... into something ugly and disappointing." She looks exhausted all of a sudden.
Her cigarette is lying in the ashtray long since forgotten, completely out now. I stare at her and shift back to give her more space. She exhales in relief after the distance between us is restored.
She has this nasty habit of smoking old sticks. Sasuke watches Sakura as she picks up the forgotten cigarette from the ashtray, half of it burnt out, and proceeds to sterilize the filter with a swap of her lighter. Such a childish habit.
The moment she makes a deep hit and looks right back at him is so iconic his heart skips a beat.
There. If he pushes hard enough, he can get rid of this skin she hid in and maybe - maybe -, tonight he'll get to wash off this disgusting perfume off of her with his own scent.
"You grew up." Sasuke starts serenely.
"Yeah.."
"You're still into art."
"Yes." Her muscles are relaxed.
"How's your mom doin'."
"I think you know everything."
I throw a dirty look her way.
"She's fine." Sakura answers begrudgingly, tired. "Was promoted we got a new car and all that jazz."
They are making an effort to be civil, even friendly. This is the least they can do now that he is back. He was away for years. He left her.
Sasuke did not visit at all last year and it was even worse when he did years before that. Because all the Uchiha ever did was make a point. Claim her attention and affection. Tie the strings of her heart to his feet only so he could shamelessly walk away.
And even though he knows it's wrong, because they can't be together and they can't be constantly at each other's throats and they need to fix things between them, he just doesn't give a fuck when she's around.
"I love you."
She simply shakes her head as if she heard something overly depressing.
"I don't know"
That hurt more than Sasuke lets her know. Actually, she might have just broken some of his ribs on the left side.
They don't try to continue this conversation. Though they know each other too well to remain in a comfortable silence.
"I'm sorry".
Why is she always apologizing?
The Uchiha takes a swig of her drink. It's bitter. How appropriate.
"I love you, Doll." I repeat as if commenting about the weather.
"You're lying Sasuke."
"I never lie."
She takes a sip and crushes her cigarette.
"Mom told me you have a girlfriend in New York." He fucking knew this was coming.
"We're over."
She laughs bitterly and it's just so Sakura he would start crying if Uchiha Sasuke was a lesser man.
Traditionally, he decides to play with her heart a little.
"She's just like you. Small and fragile and all hearts and flowers."
"I'm not hearts and flowers".
"No, you're all guns and blood." Sarcasm.
"I'll leave if you have nothing worth my time to say."
He smirks and clears his throat, preparing to say something worthy of her time and she fucking knows him so well because she beams that shit-eating, messy furious grin and Sasuke just knows what she'll do. She gets up and leaves. It's so ladylike. She doesn't even think about paying for her drinks or looking at him as he watches her back.
And, god he wouldn't have it any other way.
He pays lazily bidding Jean goodbye politely and follows her. He doesn't try to fall into step until she reaches her neighborhood.
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