Title: quell the questions of my heart
Summary: Sakura begins to doubt the reason Sasuke is with her.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Prompt: can you write a fic where Sakura was insecure/doubt of Sasukes feeling for her when he came back,she thought he just pitied her and nearly want to break up with him and Sasuke would angry and proved her how he loved her :) - anon
Comments: Had to tweak with the prompt a little, given the OOCness of Sakura, but I think I did alright!

"You're awfully quiet," she heard him murmur, feeling the careful brush of his calloused fingertips against her wrist.

She jumped a little in her seat, rapidly blinking glum thoughts out of her mind, wide green eyes fixed on his hand tentatively touching her arm. It wasn't often that Sasuke reached out to her like this, his affection evermore scarce in public, and although Sakura knew this was a gesture she should relish, she could hardly find herself appreciative when he looked so uncomfortable.

She bit her lip, and forced a smile, pulling her hand away. "I'm fine, Sasuke-kun. Just tired."

His brows furrowed, lips mulling into a firm line, but Sasuke said nothing as he went back to his meal. He didn't believe her, that much was obvious, but Sakura could only find herself thankful that he didn't press.

Maybe because I'm right. Her head tipped forward, ducking until bangs fell across her face, hiding her features. She bit her lip once more, swirling the ramen noodles in her steaming bowl. He doesn't really love me. He's just with me because he feels he owes me something. Or… or maybe because he thinks that if he's with me, he'll fall in love with me someday.

The thought had her throat growing tight, the stinging wetness of tears pooling in the corner of her eyes. With a sudden movement, she dropped her chopsticks into her untouched dish and slipped off the ramen stand stool, mumbling a strained, shaky, "I'm sorry, I'm not feeling well, Sasuke-kun," before she hurried away, palms rubbing furiously at the dampness running down her cheeks.

Far behind her, she heard syllables of her name on his lips, cut off in startled confusion, prompting haste into her footsteps. She'd barely had the time to round the corner before his hand closed around her forearm, firmly holding her in place.

"I–I'm fine," she told him, refusing to look at him. "I told you, I'm just–I'm not feeling well."

He didn't respond, but his grip remained strong, steadfast.

"…You're upset," he said, after a long moment, his voice so quiet.

Her mouth parted, words of denial ready to spill from her lips–but she couldn't seem to say them. Couldn't seem to lie to him, like she really wanted to.

Hiding from Sasuke somehow made her so tired.

Slowly shifting to look at him, Sakura met his gaze, her voice soft as she whispered, "Yes."

He frowned deeper, single hand finally falling to his side again. "Why?"

She shook her head, and looked down, wrapping an arm around herself. "I don't want to have this conversation here, Sasuke-kun."

A slow, muted breath fell from his lips, and Sakura swallowed. She only looked up at him when he walked past her, green eyes widening in disbelief–before he stopped after a few more steps, turning to look at her.

"Come on. Let's get you home, and then we can talk about it."

.

.

There was a part of her that didn't want to do it, a part of her that was too selfish to let him go when she finally had him by her side. She'd loved him for so long, had dreamed of being with Sasuke for as long as she could remember–but not like this. Not when he didn't love her.

Not when he felt forced to be with her.

"You don't need to come in," she said, as they finally reached her door. She turned to look at him, her heart suddenly so heavy when their gazes met.

Sasuke's frowned. "I thought you wanted to talk."

"I do," she admitted. "But I don't know if I can do this if I can't walk away from you."

His brows shot up at this in evident surprise, but she didn't leave him time to talk as she asked, "Do you love me, Sasuke-kun?"

His jaw slackened, and his mouth parted. The question took him off guard.

"I know this is something I should have asked a long time ago–not after we've been… dating for two months, but Sasuke-kun, I–I just–" She trailed out, her throat too tight to keep talking, feeling the burn of tears once more. Her hands curled up into fists. "If you're with me because you feel you have to be, or because you think somehow this will make you fall in love with me because that's what you think I deserve…" She paused here, brows furrowed, swallowing past the thick lump of sadness. "Then I don't want you to be with me. I want you to be with me because you love me, not because you feel forced to give me what I–"

There was a shift in his features, then, and her breath hitched, the words on her tongue lost and forgotten. She'd never seen this kind of frustration on him before, a silent fury akin to betrayal. She nearly took a step back when he closed the distance between them and towered over her, dark eyes hard.

"I don't do anything I don't want to do," he said lowly, a strange harshness to his tone. His jaw clenched. "You know that, Sakura–you've always known that about me. So why are you suddenly doubting the reason we're together?"

Together.

"I just–you never–" A breath left her, shuddering and lost. She looked away from him, fingers anxiously snatching at her skirt. "You… don't treat me differently. I don't–I feel like your friend, Sasuke-kun, I don't feel like your…"

She couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't manage to say the word that defined who she was supposed to be–what she wanted to be to Sasuke.

Girlfriend. Lover.

(the one who had his heart.)

A touch to her chin drew her from her thoughts. Sakura stiffened, eyes snapping to meet his gaze as he carefully tipped her head to look at him. She found herself nearly breathless at the look her wore, so careful and wistful, like he was blaming himself for how she felt.

"I'm–"

His mouth snapped shut, lips mulling into a firm line. Sighing, he closed his eyes, and let his hand skim down the length of her arm, until he finally found hers. Softly, cautiously, he moved to twine their fingers together, prompting her to look down in staggered wonder. She didn't realize she was holding her breath until he gave a light squeeze.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, voice gentle. "I'm trying, but I'll–I'll keep trying."

She could only give a squeeze of her own hand, her free arm slipping around his waist to pull him close as she whispered, "I'm glad I was wrong."

He squeezed her hand harder.

Kinda felt like writing something today to ease me back into writing for my longass oneshot since I haven't written a word in like what three weeks now? So I did the first prompt that I thought I could do, and this popped out!

Hope you enjoyed, even if it's not my top notch writing, haha.

DeepPoeticGirl