Thank you to Broken Reveries who gave me the courage to write the next chapter
I would greatly appreciate criticism and reviews
xoxo
Red litters across my life like a cancerous disease destroying all the good. I had a family, friends, and someone who could have been my everything, heh, life sure was made back then.
Except the fact my parents were murdered and my brother bolted with his tail in-between his legs at the mere thought of parenting me.
Not to mention, I being so agonizingly hurt, ran the fuck away not much unlike Itachi. Losing the only ones I had befriended and abandoned the one I never wished to hurt.
At the time, I needed to leave. I could not exist in that world of resentment and just the feeling of envy I would have at the sight of a child being swung by his parents along the beach.
But than again, even when my parents still had a beating heart they weren't exactly playing soccer with me in the back yard as I was aging before their very eyes. Instead my name was washed out by the chantings of "ITACHI". My mom may have been kind but I could still see the agony in her irises she desperately tried to shelter away from me. The world was not made for me and I had been reminded several times too many.
Love was a foreign concept to me. My ears never accustomed to hearing the words and my eyes unwelcoming of any emotion
Perhaps this is how I rationalized leaving my home town in search of a new beginning, than again I was never a master of good plans. Nor did I have a decent track record of good outcomes either.
I never intended to sleep with her, but she is intoxicating and dangerous. A kind of inside joke we shared was of me referring to her as vodka, the only pet name I really bestowed upon to her
I can not offer my love because there is none to give. I can not shower her in flowers or kisses nor have I ever attempted to, and I hate myself enough for the both of us because of it.
She is vodka to me but I am the heart of a flame to her. The hottest and most dangerous component to the fiery substance found right in the center, unreachable in every regard to almost any one who would dare to reach out to it. Plus, I have always had this unrelenting hold over her as if she were a measly moth to my fiery persona. Ironic how the cardiotharcic surgeon would use the bloody organ as a metaphor to describe me better than any one else ever has. Her hold over me was just as strong as mine is to her.
Her dainty fingers do not belong in his sweaty palms, the idea of her to be with such a dobe is unimaginable. The view of them was easily the ugliest scene I have ever had the unfortunate luck to have witnessed. And I ignored the stinging in my chest as if she were the one who had left me in the dust and not the other way around.
If life comes in stages, The first stage of my era was covered in blood. The blood of my family and the blood that could not hold my brother to me. The second stage of red belonging to the anger, the deep-rooted unsatiable anger that would envelop me any time her husband was mentioned.
She had cheated on him with me. And I was the angry one? That doesn't even make sense. No. Fucking. Sense. What. So. Ever.
Neither does the jealousy I feel when she escaped the clutches of my bed to return to her home. The home that did not belong to me.
I could not even stand to look at that bastard. She may be oblivious to his clingy tendencies and overbearing need over her but I am not. I saw him hold her back never trusting her to be free. Not that he didn't have a reason to, I suppose. She did end up cheating. And while she and I are to blame for that. He was never the perfect, angelic victim he acts out to be.
He had access to her email, her phone, her work password, he refused to let her breathe. And it never did cease to piss me off.
She was suffering and he was killing her torturously.
And here lies this goddess next to me, cursed with such an unfortunate hair color. At this thought I can not even hold back my smirk. As if sensing when to look up and into my soul I caught sight of the most beautiful pair of eyes I have ever seen. The very intricate jade green in them pulled me in and it became increasingly difficult for me to look away. But, I still managed too.
This very special green had secretly become my favorite color. And I've never been able to relay this information into her ears. No matter how much she desires to hear anything from me.
This beautiful woman is with me and it has been 13 months since she has even seen the before-mentioned bastard. And yet he still has this remarkable hold of anger over me, sheathing me like a strait jacket.
I guess I deserved it for having made glorious love to her while she had maintained a ring over her most valuable finger.
As if reading my mind I felt her soften against my body and touch my face gingerly and whispering so faintly, " I love you Sasuke".
My face softening but all my mind could linger on was the fact they had never actually legally divorced and considering the fact I do not value marriage and refuse to be a part of the sacred act ever; made me quite the hypocrite. But I can never quite quell the hypocritical part of myself that is still peeved they have this attachment to each other in which I can not control.
He once was a brother to me and when I actually can put my unfair rage to the side its lonely brother, remorse, rams into me full throttle.
I can never forget that look of pure betrayal on his face when this epiphany hit him as his wife and I had walked out of a restaurant together when her shift at the hospital was supposedly still occurring.
He loved her so much and in so many ways she will never receive that same love from me and I know a part of her hates herself and I for that.
I refuse to show and allow anyone, even her, to concern themselves with my suffrage. And no matter how much I attempt to hide my sheer misery behind this mask of indifference and wield the animosity like a weapon.
I still can not decide if wining her was worth losing Naruto. So I continued to ignore her sweetly spoken ' I love you' she mustered up to say not too long before, words she will never hear coming from my lips. And as I felt the lone tear that slid across my chest, she knew this too.
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