heart's a mess
.
.
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vi.
she is so innocuous at first that he doesn't mind her lingering around his hospital ward. she's been doing it for so long—before he left and he could hardly stand it, in his dreams when he was in Oto and couldn't understand why he kept seeing traces of soft pink when he closed his eyes—that this, he thinks, this lingering in close distance, in flesh and bones, couldn't be much different. he is wrong, of course, and he knows it. but if sasuke's learned anything, it's that lies are often more comforting than the Truth, so he'll live this lie one more day. he'll tell himself she is innocuous, and let her be.
vii.
some things never change, and sasuke quickly finds that naruto's disturbing fondness for ramen is one of those universal constants. they slip into a routine of sorts, weekly meet ups at ichiraku. they being what was once team 7. he doesn't think of them as a team. not anymore. they're broken, and it isn't the neat kind where you can piece everything back together and will it to become whole again. there are sharp edges, missing pieces—what they are now is irreversibly incongruous with what they used to be. but they try still, to salvage whatever is left. he notices during one of these dinners that she is noticeably more at ease with naruto and kakashi around. when it's just the two of them, she is unfailingly kind, unbelievably patient, but every single one of her words, every last movement is tinged with a wariness reserved only for him. he is slightly offended when this realization hits him, even though he has no right to be. he has given her enough reasons, after all, to warrant a lifetime of cold shoulders. but she finds it in herself to forgive, so he finds it in himself to swallow his indignation.
viii.
they spar sometimes. he is missing an arm, but even if he still had it he suspects she could turn him to dust without breaking a sweat if he wasn't careful enough. he sees the affection in her eyes turn to cold, steely concentration the second they begin. her movements are a little uncouth, a little too impulsive to land a hit every time, but a single hit is really all she needs. she keeps him on his toes. he is light-headed around her, often his heart will begin beating faster when she walks into a room. he is so unfamiliar with these feelings that at first he isn't sure what is happening. is he nervous she will punch him when his guard is down and ground him to rubble? is he afraid the warmth in her eyes will one day be replaced by bone chilling hostility, like his brother's did? the unwitting comparison to his brother does it. slowly, but definitively, he understands why she has lingered in his memories for years.
ix.
no one told sasuke he was a limitless vessel. he figured that out on his own, as he felt his rage seep into every capillary inside his body, spreading ever more day by day, until it had somehow taken on a life of its own, until somehow—it had become bigger than him. it is not easy to unlearn hatred when it becomes you. it is harder still when the object of your hatred is suddenly absolved of all his crimes against your heart. he was vengeance personified once. then, without warning, he was nothing. a limitless vessel, turned inside out and left empty for the winds to howl against. emptiness is quite a hard place to fill, but sakura easily burrows a new corner inside his heart. he is a limitless vessel after all, so there is room past his emptiness for her.
x.
she has eyes like a spell, enchanting, soothing, and a smile like sunrise. sasuke hasn't craved human touch in a long time, but he wonders what her fair skin will feel like under his calloused palm. he has always prided himself for being disciplined, but when it comes to her, he finds that his almost a decade long exercise in restraint has been for nothing. he wants to memorize the contours of her face with his hands, because capturing them with his sharingan simply isn't enough. but he is undeserving, oh so undeserving. he will accept her kindness, her love. he'll allow himself that much, but he won't take her face in his hands, and kiss her like he wants to.
before he leaves the village again, he leaves her with a token of promise. a promise he inherited from his most precious person, he gives it to her like he's handing her his heart. here's finally a truth he's not afraid to face, he thinks. but even that is a lie, because she's had his heart for a while now.
a/n: big thanks to SouthSideStory for reading this over and letting me know it's not trash!
