Bound:
II.
Sakura.
Life wasn't a fairy tale. It was dark and shallow. Sakura finds herself stumbling upon a writer. As broken and rotten as she.
Everything had begun to burn. All she could see was the glass obliterated into pieces all around her on the hard wood floor. She could hear him shouting, screaming at the top of his lungs. But she couldn't move. She was stuck. She couldn't move.
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Sasori was staring at her like he didn't know who she was anymore.
His light brown eyes were full of rage.
Hands fisted at his sides.
His whole body was shaking.
Whether with the urge to hit her or because he wanted to scream in frustration, she wasn't too sure.
She didn't even know who her brother was anymore.
Her sister and he, himself, could say all they wanted that Sasori had reformed over the years. But. This stunt he was pulling right now wasn't helping matters at all.
Every time she glanced upon her brother...she was scared.
Every time, all that filled her mind and clouded her sense of vision was that night. That night that they both lost someone that had meant the world to them.
Sasori looked as though he was waging an internal battle in his head.
Regret lined the features of his face. He kept shifting from one foot to the other. It looked like he wanted to speak but those sharp eyes of that man standing a few feet away kept him huddled in on himself.
"Sakura, please." There was such sorrow in her brother's tone.
Sorrow that was intertwined in the linings of Sakura's bones. That made her feel like she was always operating so much slower than human beings who weren't weighed with such dark complexities of the past.
Her eyelashes brushed against the dark circles beneath her eyelids, as her eyes closed in a moment to gather her strength, her courage...to simply just let herself be able to think for a moment.
Sasori made a step forward and the man she had intruded in on the other night stepped a little closer to her side.
Gods.
He was still as gorgeous as she could remember, being all half muddled with alcohol and everything. Huh. She didn't remember him being this tall.
She felt so short as he loomed behind her.
A steady presence in a world all of her own that felt so bleak and out of control.
His gaze was steel. Those pools of ash were bottomless bottles of ink as he appraised the situation. A frown was fixed on the corner of his mouth. His lips curved at an angle.
He held her jacket from the other night in his arms.
"I can't, Saso'. Not...not right now. Please go home. Take care of Karin and momma." Sasori's eyes were brimming with unshed tears.
"I'm not going back home without you." Gripping the back of his head as though he wanted to rip the strands from his scalp, he turned on his heel and bustled off into the dark of the night.
Sakura felt her heart chipping away a little more.
Watching her brother, so defeated and worn, stumble away.
Just like he always did.
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Sakura hadn't realized she had been standing on the sidewalk for a few moments, her breaths all choppy as her fingertips tried to light a cigarette.
She was fumbling with her lighter.
The constant click, click, click, was grating on her nerves.
Large, warm hands covered her own.
Her bright gaze lifted as the sexy man from her drunkcapades lifted the lighter from her and took out his own. He flicked it and lit her cigarette end, letting the stick caress the bottom of her lip as he held it out to her.
"Believe this belongs to you," His voice rumbled out from his chest as he held out her jacket.
As she made to take it from him, he gently laid it against her shoulders. A tiny smirk tugged at her lips as she seemed to take note that it made him uncomfortable.
Her attire.
The fact that they seemed to keep meeting when she was basically half undressed.
They stood there in the quiet of the night as Sakura let her cigarette smoke evaporate into the unknowns of the universe.
She tried to gather her thoughts.
She didn't want to walk back up to her apartment just yet.
Sasori could still be watching.
And she didn't want him to know where she lived.
That meant a way for him to keep finding her.
She did work here, so there was that problem.
But it wouldn't be hard to let Ino and Tenten become aware of just how intense her situation really was. If Sasori was showing up drunk, it meant it could happen again.
Especially since he seemed to have concocted some kind of vendetta.
A vendetta that implored him to bring her back home.
She didn't really know why.
It wasn't like her mother had tried to reach out to her.
So she had done what she always did.
Survived. On her own.
"Can I walk you home?" The voice of this devilishly attractive man, glided like butter through her ears. How could one voice sound so soothing. So calming.
"No. I mean. I live here," Her free hand that wasn't holding her cigarette stick gestured towards the bar a few feet away from them. "...I just, I don't want to go back yet."
Sasuke turned away from the bar, and from her, and started to walk up the street.
Sakura blinked.
As he got towards the end of the sidewalk at a bend in the street, he ducked his head back towards her. His gaze smoldered her to the ground. Into the cracks beneath the asphalt. Right into the dirt of the soil that lived underground.
"Coming?" His voice was laced with not only this accent she couldn't decipher, Russian? He definitely had the gruff grounding out of his words for it, but also with a slight taunt.
Her heels tapping against the pavement beneath her, in his direction, was answer enough.
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The pair had walked around the block a few times.
The man was always a few paces ahead of her.
Either because of his long legs, or because his head kept darting about each time they passed an alleyway or crosswalk to keep heed of her brother, she wasn't too sure.
She was starting to get chilled.
Her jacket didn't really do much to keep the air from hitting her exposed chest.
A chest that heaved as she realized how much walking they had been doing.
Shit.
How fit was this guy?
He paused at the entrance to the apartment she had trespassed upon the other night. Her expression went blank. She twisted uncomfortably.
"Would you like a coffee? A change of clothes, perhaps? I can walk you back afterwards."
"Does my lack of clothing bother you, sir?"
"Hn. No." His tight lipped mutter made a shit-eating grin appear on her face. Her lips tingled with the way his unwavering eyes seemed to fix to a point above her head.
"I'll take you up on that offer of coffee, but I should get back. I work in the morning."
"Bar?"
"I work there too, yes. But no. Down at the bakery off the corner."
"Aa."
He turned away from her to unlatch the door to the gate. A three step incline led to his front door. He led her into it, back through that familiar dark hallway.
His apartment was small.
The hallway spaced out into this large, breathtaking kitchen.
It was all counters.
A dainty light brown wood table was situated in the middle of the room with three cushioned chairs lingering around it.
A huge fridge with a glass door that showed the insides of his fridge was positioned in the far right corner, the stove in the middle.
His counters were really cluttered.
In fact as she began to drank more of his place in, it all seemed cluttered.
There were bookshelves galore. And on any surface she seemed to look there were novels and scribbled pieces of paper, everywhere.
Upturned mugs.
Mugs with dried substances cracked on the edges.
Messy, messy man.
"Are you some kind of hoarder? Pack rat? Slob?" His shoulders were stiff as she plopped herself down on one of the dining chairs.
A tiny light overhung above the table, casting the both of them in a soft grey hue.
A small vase that captivated one little white daisy was perched on the center of the small dining table. The man seemed to busy himself with trying to make her that cup of coffee.
He was reaching upwards into cupboards, seemingly to find two clean mugs.
"Writer." Ah, that explained the semi-controlled uproar of his place.
"Does this writer have a name?"
"Does this enigma of a half naked woman have one?" He retorted softly as his fingers clinked two mugs down onto the surface of the counter beside his sink.
A sink filled with dirty dishes.
His long fingers started to unravel a bag of coffee grounds, letting the bag tip over into a small white filter. A gleaming black coffee pot and machine were off by his fridge, just begging to be used.
She laughed lightly, "Sakura."
"Sakura, does your family always corner you in streets looking as though they want to have a brawl with you?"
The laughter faded from her as she shut down for a moment.
He paused as he seemed to notice it was taking her an unusual amount of time to respond.
Her gaze was blank as she stared at the middle of the table.
At that lone daisy wilting towards the left.
"...I apologize." He seemed to speak more rugged the more embarrassed he got. Like he was trying to slam a hammer against the offensiveness that oozed from each letter.
"No, no. It's...a long story."
"Hn." It was the only answer he offered and she was appreciative of it.
He didn't try to implore her for any more information. Didn't seem to want to pry into her personal matters. And for once, that settled a little uncomfortable with her.
Why did it feel like she wanted to spill her soul out to him?
She scowled.
The man set a steaming cup of coffee down in front of her.
Black.
Accurate.
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As Sakura had been drinking the cup of coffee he had prepared for her, he had lumbered off into what she assumed was his bedroom.
It was a closed door.
His woman chamber, maybe.
He looked the part of a lady killer, anyway.
She scowled again.
A large thunk distracted herself from her thoughts.
"If you glare at my table anymore, I might have to buy another one. Do you not like handcrafted wood?" His head tilted slightly towards the right as his fingers rested on the thick book he had tossed onto the surface of the table.
She simply glared at him instead as she swatted his hand away to gaze upon the book.
It was beautifully constructed.
A hard back blue cover. Words carefully scripted in gold cursive.
What stunned her was the image depicted on the cover.
It was simply a dark forest.
A forest tinged with mist.
The trees were hazed with edges of a faint violet. And the more it inclined into the depths of the woods, the darker it shaded. Dark blues faded to a bland ebony.
Slashed through the middle of the forest was the title. But where she figured a title would be, it literally was the word, 'Title."
Her fingertips glided over the bottom of the novel where the authors named tended to be labeled.
Sasuke Uchiha.
"You named your book, Title?" His lips twisted upwards.
"It's a work in progress still."
"Okay, Sasuke Uchiha, master novelist." His eyes rolled briefly upwards before he snatched the volume up away from her grasp.
"Wait, I wanted to read that."
"Not finished." He grumbled.
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"Thank you. For...walking me home. Helping me, master novelist."
The man, whom she refused to call by his given name of Sasuke for it created this uncomfortable trill in weird crevices of her body, sighed.
They stood outside the bar.
Sakura was dancing from foot to foot.
She wanted her bed.
Maybe a bath.
Some booze.
But she had work at the bakery in the morning. The tables weren't going to wait themselves. Her bills weren't going to pay themselves.
"I take it this is where I can find you?"
"That is correct, master novelist."
His cheeks scrunched and she found a smile overtaking her lips at the way his facial expressions seemed to grow so comical in his presence.
Such a handsome man.
She found she wanted to run the pads of her fingers along his chin to see just how rough that stubble was on his face.
What.
She blinked and realized he was already once again walking away from her.
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Her head lolled back against the pillow as his lips trailed a path down between her breasts. Her eyelids were pressed tightly closed as she felt his body press hers against the sheets.
He moved beneath her.
Each movement he thrusted upwards, she felt her body quake in response.
Her fingers dug into the sheets, twisting the fabric as he continued to move inside her.
But every time she felt like she was about to implode, it would quickly evaporate.
Her eyelids flashed open as Sai pulled out when he was finished and headed towards the bathroom in her room to dispose of his condom.
She had decided instead when she got back upstairs to respond to Sai's texts from hours prior of 'Let's meet.'
Meet meaning the meeting of their private parts.
A feat that kept not bringing Sakura the satisfaction she so craved.
There was so much pent up things she wanted to get rid of after her altercation with her brother and that weird encounter with the attractive accented man.
It terrified her even more that each time she closed her eyes she kept thinking of the sexy drunkcapades man.
Here was man in bed with her.
And all she could think of was the man not in bed with her.
She chewed on her bottom lip as Sai came back into the room to gather his belongings.
She didn't want to lie and say it didn't bother her that Sai was using her for only sex. A warm body to keep away the chill.
But wasn't she doing the same?
She never had feelings for him.
He was a pretty face to get release.
Except for the fact that he never helped her reach her release.
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Strands of all shades of pink were falling out of her topknot.
Her makeup was once again all smeared.
She hadn't bothered to fix it when she had awoken that morning.
Just a quick rinse off shower to removed whatever smells had accumulated and she had been off to the bakery to deal with yet another amount of frustrated people who liked to yell at her.
The bakery management was nice.
It was a quaint little family known by the name of the Hyuuga's. Cousins Hinata and Neji owned it. Hinata was just the sweetest little thing. Always helping her by taking shifts she couldn't get to because of the bar or just because she was too hungover.
Hinata's wide pale eyes were watching her with concern as she tapped the pen she had just had in her mouth against the notebook that was in her right hand.
"We don't serve burgers here, try the joint down the road."
"Well what the hell do you serve here, tarts?" The old man's eyes were raking over her body while he spat that out.
Ha. Very clever, salty old man.
He just had his knickers in a twist because his bagel had been a little too toasted, courtesy of her. She knew he was trouble from the moment he had walked in with his wife and kept making snide flirtatious comments to the waitresses.
But she hadn't been in the mood for this bullshit.
Her white blouse maybe was a little too tight. She had realized too as she looked down that a button in the middle had come undone, revealing her white push up bra.
Her black slacks accentuated her curves down below more too.
She knew she should be more conscientious sometimes of what she wore.
One of her dark rose eyebrows rose as she tried to quell the anger that was trying to claw it's way out of her fists.
She wasn't her brother.
She. Was not. Her brother.
She shoved the pen through the messy knot that rested on top of her head. Curls showered down and long strands were pressing up against her opened blouse.
She turned on her nonslip black shoes to head back towards the kitchen but paused when the old man's voice reached her ears just as she was about to step into the back, "Yes. That's right honey, go freshen up those tarts for me."
Ears burning, Sakura reached down towards the front counter that housed a selection of pastries that customers could choose already made or to have ordered by the half dozen or dozen.
Her fingers seized a cherry filled tart, dripping with cherry sauce and globs of little maraschino cherries that rested against the glaze.
Her footsteps were slow, calm as she stepped closer to the table. Her hand rose to clock the pastry right in the old mans face, but she was intercepted by a familiar face that blocked that pastries path.
Instead of shoving that tart into the old mans face, the pastry instead was shoved into another mans face.
Sasuke's.
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"I said I was sorry."
"I don't think you did, no."
"Well I'm not, actually. That wasn't meant for your face."
Sakura's hands were dabbing a warm washcloth against Sasuke's face, wiping away the debris of glaze and crumbled cherry encrusted filling from the tart that had sloshed against him.
Gods. It was everywhere.
Cherry filling was plastered to his lips. Little specks of jelly.
Glazed crumbs were stuck to his stubble.
He was perched on the employee toilet. A black button up henley with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His jacket was on the floor. His jeans a dark stonewash.
Sakura had enough sense to have buttoned up her blouse as the two had made their way into the back, ushered by a cool but stern looking Neji who was not pleased with what had been about to go down.
He tolerated Sakura's antics, a lot.
And she knew that it was starting to strain the cousins.
They could only do so much for a wild employee with a brash attitude and resting bitch face.
She didn't mean to cause them so much trouble.
Her aggravated sighs were continuing to billow out from her mouth.
"They don't blame you," He muttered quietly.
"They don't but they should."
"You only stuck up for yourself."
"Does a whole lot in this society these days."
He went quiet as she continued to wipe away the last of the pastry. Her chest was level with his eyes. She seemed to be always putting herself in provocative situations, where this man was concerned.
She tossed the washcloth against the sink and sat there on her knees in front of Sasuke. He wasn't a guy of much words she had picked up on.
But that suited her just fine.
She didn't like to talk very much.
"What brings you to the Hyuuga bakery, are you stalking me?"
"Just checking up."
"My knight."
He seemed to be finding it difficult to string words together. She couldn't blame him, really. She was before him on her knees. She moved to stand at the same moment he did.
They bumped into each other and her hands flashed out to press against his chest to keep herself steady, at the same moment his arms wound around her to keep her from falling.
His forehead pressed against hers.
Stumbling, he managed to have her pinned against the wall.
"My, sir, if you wanted inspiration for your novel all you had to do was ask."
His dark eyes were staring unflinchingly into her pools of beryl. A smirk teased his lips as he seemed to notice the way her chest was heaving in response to his lips being so close to her own.
His fingertip uplifted to rub against the corner of her mouth, where a piece of cherry tart had stuck to her skin.
Her hands were rumpling his sweater a bit too tightly. She could feel the fabric bunched beneath her palms. Her forehead was perspiring a little.
She blamed it on the fact that they were stuck in an enclosed space.
Not on the way his breath had fanned against her face.
This soft scent of mint and faint traces of honey, seemingly to mask the stench of cigarette smoke.
He seemed to be waiting for her to break.
Her gaze was getting the more heated the longer he seemed to just stand there, almost completely pressed flush against her.
As he was about to speak, a soft knock sounded on the door. "S-Sakura? Are you guys alright? Hinata's soft voice seemed to douse the both of them like a bucket of ice cold water.
Sasuke untangled himself from her and brushed past her out the door.
Sakura stood in the bathroom staring out after him, her mouth damp from the way she was trying so hard not to run her tongue along her lips.
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"Let me get these facts straight. So. Your siblings have come all the way here to get you to go home, for what exactly. To resurrect your mom from this pool of depression she's had for years over the loss of your father? And you have this hunk of a man who fucks you senseless but he's not satisfying you, and now on top of your brother who seems to be harassing you to the point of you being scared you were saved by this sexy stranger who writes books and almost seemed to shag you with his eyes in your place of work's bathroom?"
"Seems about it."
Ino, Tenten, and Sakura were all curled up on the couch nestled in the center of their apartment. Their apartment was very airy. Full of windows. Three rooms, two - hers and Ino's on one side, and Tenten's on the other.
The kitchen and living room were kind of combined.
They were all settled in on the L-shaped gray couch, bowls of macaroni sitting in their laps.
A few empty bottles of wine listed on the glass coffee table.
Wine glass in the crook of Ino's hand as she tried to digest this information that Sakura was finally being forthcoming with.
Tenten was listening patiently in silence to everything, munching softly.
"It seems to me, that you're finally figuring out your life, Sakura. I'm glad you met this guy. Strange as he seems to be."
"But I feel like you wanna fuck him. You should fuck him."
"Ino," Sakura's eyes rolled.
"What? From your description he seems very fuckable."
"Unattainable."
"Says the girl throwing herself at him constantly. You little slut."
The girls laughed.
"I'm just scared, you guys. My brother is so adamant. Sai isn't leaving me satisfied anymore. Not that he really ever was...but I'm just starting to realize that I want more. I haven't wanted more in a really long time."
"It's okay to want to better yourself, Sakura."
"But what if I'm just walking into something more dangerous?"
"Well you better find more sexy outfits, and you better keep finding ways to bump into this writer."
Sakura couldn't seem to quell some of these worries that were plaguing the back of her mind. There were parts of her. Lots of parts of her that wanted to get to know this stranger better.
But strangers meant finding out things and revealing parts of herself.
She wasn't so sure she wanted to unfold all these dark parts of herself to anyone else.
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Aaaand, the writing slump has vanished for the time being.
Hello, chapter two and vague storyline :D
Hope you enjoyed.
I don't own Naruto.