Oh, I am a bitch. Bitch bitch bitch. Implied sex and angst ahead. You've been warned.
Had a flash of 'Sakura doesn't deserve Sasuke-teme!' and 'Wow, Sakura's really mature after the time skip!' This is the bastard child of those two thoughts.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kishimoto Masashi-sensei; I just borrow them for a while and send them back needing intense psychotherapy. Only the fucked-up situations I throw them into belong to me.
Two hundred sixty-seven words: Want
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"Sasuke-kun."
He wasn't paying her any attention. His bare back facing her, Sakura could measure every breath, and it was obvious he wasn't sleeping. She tried again.
"Sasuke-kun."
Still, silence.
She gave a sigh and, moving slowly, snuggled up against him.
"What do you want?"
His voice surprised her, reverberating through his back so she could feel it against her chest. She put a tentative hand on his shoulder.
"I…"
What did she want? Sore from the assault of half an hour ago – she didn't mind; in fact, she had pushed him until he had no choice – she thought she should be content. She hadn't realized that – that sex with Sasuke-kun wasn't what she wanted. She wanted…
A quiet gasp escaped her mouth. She just wanted him to be happy. Loving her could be a nice side effect, but she wanted to see him smiling like he used to when he was fighting Naruto, wanted to be the reason he smiled or laughed. She wanted to be just as good as Naruto, just this once.
"Get out."
"What?"
He was staring straight ahead, not even sparing an eye twitch towards her as she leaned over him, trying to discern the meaning of those words. Her bruised breasts rested on his arm, her cold hand comforting at the back of his neck, and he said again:
"Get out."
"Sasuke-kun–"
"You got what you came for. Now get out."
She gathered her clothes, dressed and left on trembling legs without even enough nerve to tell him what she wanted.
Because now she realized…
Sasuke-kun wasn't what she wanted.