Not another one-shot! Unfortunately, yes. I prefer this fic, but comments and comparisons are greatly appreciated. Thank yuu. 3 3 3.
He couldn't believe it. He had to blink. Once, twice, three times. It wasn't an illusion. She was there. The pounding rain against the concrete and the steady trickle of the broken drainpipe into the gutter didn't even awaken him from his astonishment. There, crouched on the steps up to his terrace accommodation, her massive beige fan spread out over her head like an umbrella to protect her from the rain, was the sand shinobi, Temari. His ex. He didn't think he'd ever see the stubborn, vain, self-centred kunoichi in such a pitiful position. Those dark sea green eyes refused to meet his, instead they focused on his bare feet, all the cockiness gone, and in their place being fear and despair. Her slender fingers trembled on the mechanism of her fan, her stamina gone, as she weakly drifted it above her head.
And yet. Even with this shock, horror and surprise, Shikamaru did not hesitate. He narrowed his dark eyes at her, and what she had become. It was not in his nature to blow a full-length conversation, so instead, he said in that same flat, boring tone he'd always sprouted,
"Why are you here."
It was more of a statement than a question, and he could almost feel her quivering under his figure. Despite this, the female ninja new better than to think up an excuse. Inhaling nervously, she whispered in a small voice,
"I uh, was wondering.. if.. you'd like.. to see me.. again?"
She mumbled, lowering her blonde head and studying the pavement, it's pigment darkened by the water sloshing over it. Her knees were damp against the cold stone, and she could feel the imprints of the rocks embedded in her shins. She felt no shame in the question, because unluckily, she knew the spiky haired man's biggest weakness. Her.
How dare she. How DARE she, even have the nerve to say that to him. He resisted the urge to slam the door in her face, but he didn't settle things like that. He had to make her see he was over her. Instead, a small smirk tugged on the corner of his lips, and he rested against the frame of the door, running an impatient hand through his inky hair. He contemplated his words for a few moments, before finally replying,
"You think I'm going to take you back? I'd have thought you could have done better than that."
He shifted his gaze from the soaked fan to across the road, the street lights beginning to flicker into motion as the sky darkened, and fewer and fewer vehicles sped through the street, their headlights gleaming as the drivers stared blindly through the rain splattered windscreens. He was always a very observant person. He could tell she had no response, so he exhaled, before adding,
"I'm back up off the floor. I won't let you hurt me anymore. I've been waiting for this day, when you'd be back here with your lies."
She shuddered. It would be different if she had a comeback to throw at him, but she didn't. She'd cheated on him. She didn't even know why she expected him to give her a second chance. She didn't deserve it. She wasn't even worth this conversation. Just the slut on the side, getting tipsy with one of the sexy barmen down at Joey's. She never thought about the consequences. Why did she let herself get into this predicament? If she'd never gone to Joey's, she and Shikamaru would still be together. Living in his small, yet cosy terrace. She lifted her gaze, and stared behind him, down the corridor to where a thin beam of light shot across the floor from a crack in the door. But Shikamaru would not soften. Once he'd made a decision, he would stick with it. Her figure crumpled, as she felt her heart shatter into millions of pieces, feeling his glare boring into her spine.
"Sorry Temari."
The boy grunted, shifting himself upright once more. He didn't consider himself a spiteful person; he just wanted to avoid the pain at all costs. He'd hidden from the world for weeks after he'd found out the blonde had cheated on him, refusing to eat, train, and accept company from anyone. It was only in recent days that he'd started to move on, and here she was. Literally crawling up to him, like the lowly scum she was, begging for forgiveness. The old, confident Temari would have quivered at such an act. She'd just turned into a worthless begger. He sighed and turned his back on her, taking a step through the threshold and sliding his hand around the door handle. He slid it ajar, before adding,
"But you're just not worth it."
And with that, he closed the door with a silent click, instead of an impressive slam like most men would. Temari began to shake as his presence faded, the muscles in her arm keeping the giant fan above her head failed, and she dropped it with a crack on the chipped stones and terracotta pots outside Shika's residence. Salty tears filled behind her eyes, and after a single blink they began to cascade messily down her pale cheeks, dripping off her nose and lips, merging with the constant rain. Her scruffy golden hair began to stick up and frizz as the droplets of water soaked into it, and with one yelp of despair, the girl collapsed on stone steps, sobbing, wailing, screaming in anguish.
Fin.
