Alone Together
The wind in their free-flowing sails is just beginning to pick up with their first kiss. That's all it takes; just one kiss and Sakura and Sasuke explode into a freefall of uncharted emotions, feeling the rush to connect and hold each other close as gravity pulls them towards the earth. The rush kickstarts a frenzy, finding the beat of his heart under her fingertips, finding the spots that have her gasping for air, finding the exact shade of lavender in his eyes blooming across the morning skies, finding how the two of them fit together over and over. For all the newness of their blooming romantic relationship, the path feels familiar to Sakura – the comfortable silence, the awareness of how close their bodies are, knowing exactly when his hand will close over hers.
Basking in the heat of the summer sun, Sakura feels like a child at the end of a school year. She steps into the freedom of an endless summer vacation, an infinite stretch of time where she and Sasuke can stumble and laugh and love. Her heart thrums with the rhythm of an upbeat song, a melody that shouts beyond the quietude. In the silence, Sakura replays the bravery she mustered up that made the friendly façades drop their pretense.
Sasuke last returned to the village to bid Naruto congratulations after missing his grand wedding. On the heels of his sudden exit from Konoha, Sakura's feet pulled her forward, every cell in her body ragged from the cortisol of endless waiting and waiting and waiting.
"Sasuke-kun!"
Sasuke had to have noticed her. He had to. He slowed down, letting her catch up to him. Sasuke – one of the fastest shinobi Sakura has ever seen and likely will ever see – slowed down. For her.
When she catches up to him, Sasuke's gaze is controlled but not harsh. His eyes shifted all over her huffing figure, caught the harried appearance she threw together to catch up with him, the light weight of her pack, the lack of traveling cloak. All the pieces needed for Sasuke to deduce how much of a last-minute decision this was for her.
"Sakura… You know I travel alone."
"Then let's be alone together."
His response comes slowly, a nonverbal shrug of the shoulder and soft smiling exhale.
Months of kisses and exploring how fast zippers fall apart and Sakura finds herself lounging by a clear stream, engrossed in the pages of her medical scroll. But her eyes frequently drift from the words, landing on the figure of Sasuke training nearby. He moves with hurried intensity, the fervor of someone who has no room for error. Yet Sakura knows he is more than the shinobi forged in the heat of wild volcanoes – here, with Sakura and the wide skies as his only witnesses, Sasuke's heart runs free. A stallion with wild ambition lets the breeze rush through his wild black locks, the only things grounding him to this earth is the gravity of loving Sakura.
He is lost in his own world, a place filled with internal structures that Sakura is only beginning to understand. As she looks at him, Sakura can't help but think how beautiful he is. The thought hits her with such force, she almost drops her book. She blinks, stunned by the sudden realization.
Sakura watches as Sasuke moves fluidly in the summer heat, his muscles shifting with each precise movement. His jet-black hair clings to his sweat-slicked skin, the ebony strands waving like a flag of surrender to the relentless sun. His shirt is off, revealing his sculpted chest and abs, muscles contracting rhythmically with each targeted strike. The sun casts a glint on his sword, and she can't help but admire the strength in his hands as he swings it with effortless grace. His skin is a symphony of shades, the sun dancing on his back, illuminating a mosaic of scars that tell tales of past battles. His face is a study of focused intensity, those onyx eyes sharp and alert, a predatory hawk mid-flight. Sweat trickles down his temple and down the spot on his neck that only her tongue knows, like the brush strokes of a master painter against a canvas of flawless porcelain skin. His feet are grounded, the dust beneath them kicks up in swirls as he pivots and leaps with the agility of a panther. Every move he makes is an echo of power, reverberating in the silence of the training grounds. It's a dance only he knows, a brutal ballet set to the backdrop of the summer sun. Sasuke is poetry in motion, a cool and beautiful enigma, an alluring paradox of ice and fire. And Sakura, she is the enchanted audience, captivated by the alluring performance of this solitary warrior under the summer sun.
Sasuke pauses his training to wipe off the sweat trickling down his face with the back of his wrist. Catching her gaze, he smirks. Shoot. She's been caught staring again. He walks over to sit next to her, their bodies brushing slightly and a cheeky smile begging to break through Sasuke's face. He picks up her medical scroll, running through the passages with a hard-fought lightness. Sakura raises an eyebrow and asks, "Think you can understand it?"
With a nonchalant shrug, Sasuke teases her, "Maybe if I had a good tutor." His eyes lock with hers, a spark of playful challenge shining in them with a cock of his eyebrow. Blush blooming unashamedly, Sakura finds herself saying yes. But they both know it's just an excuse; it's more than just book-learning.
Sasuke's kiss both does and doesn't surprise her, as she is still in the process of learning. Sakura is smart; she's always excelled in all her exams. But this is all new to her: familiarizing herself with letting go, getting to know what it feels like to fall into the magnetism between herself and the man pinning her down, learning to stop stifling the need to touch and be touched. Their journey is a road to ruin - the ruin of their previous lives, the demolishing of walls built from past pains. And they're starting at the end, at the end of their solitary battles, stepping into a shared life built from the shrapnel. Sakura lets herself fall apart under his touch and his tongue, transforming being alone into a shared activity.
END.