notes: i'm so excited! i signed up for an lj christmas thing, so i'm already writing my christmas fic for you guys! and of course, it's sasusaku. :) what else?
.chapter two— b minor
He could see the way she looked at him. It was akin to the way other women often looked at him, even if they didn't know who he was.
Because he was Uchiha Sasuke, of course. Intelligent, quiet, mysterious—and inevitably gorgeous.
It took him longer than anticipated for him to finish the first stage of the novel-writing process. After finally finished with writing it, he had to go back, delete things, add things, and edit. Then he'd send it to other editors, they'd edit and send it back to him, which he would then read again and make the necessary changes. The process was then repeated. It was tiring.
In total, it took two years for his newest novel, Out of Tune to be published. Needless to say, though, he could live until he was forty off of the sales. It was the most popular out of all of his works—although he didn't see what was so special about it.
He only saw what was so special about the person his main character was based off of.
He had spent two years with this woman. Two years with this odd, crazy woman who liked going to the parks in the winter, reading medical textbooks and performing at Starbucks during her spare time.
As impossible as it was, he felt inseparable with her.
He was with her when she graduated from medical school. She was with him when he got into one of the nastiest arguments with Naruto that ever existed in the history of their friendship. They were together when the city experienced a power outage that lasted for the majority of the night. (Because, of course, Sasuke didn't trust Sakura to get home safely by herself.)
Sasuke felt like his life was turning into one of those stupid romance stories, but that was just the sad truth.
"Mm, say, Sasuke," Sakura said, scooting closer to him on the couch so they could be considered cuddling, "Let's perform a couple of duets. We haven't done that in a while."
From time to time, they'd go to the nearest Starbucks and perform. Sometimes, he'd play what he could on the guitar, and she'd sing. Sometimes, they'd play together. Most of the time, he was the one singing (although it took a long time before Sakura was able to convince him to do it the first time).
"Shouldn't you be working on that report?" he asked, trying to ignore her warmth beside him. (Trying to.)
"I've been doing that all day. I need to stretch my limbs."
He sighed. "Fine." His soft spot for this girl was growing by the day. It was sickening.
"So what do we play today?"
"I don't particularly care."
"Let's play some love songs!"
"Whatever."
He could see the way she looked at him. And he could see that these stupid, ridiculous feelings of his were reciprocated.
But Sasuke was never one for relationships or romance, and he wasn't about to start just because he was tempted to. Although love worked well in his books, it didn't work well in his life. And he wasn't going to drag Sakura into it.
After picking up her guitar and running a brush through her hair, they left her apartment (that Sasuke had discovered a couple of months prior that it was almost like his second home).
He was in a dilemma, Sasuke was.
"Let's make a playlist first." After settling in their familiar seats at Starbucks, Sakura pulled out her iPod. "Go 'hn' if you can sing it, and 'hn' if you can't."
"Hn."
"You and Me by Lifehouse."
"Hn."
"Wonderwall by Oasis."
"Hn."
"Check Yes Juliet by We the Kings."
"Hn."
"Yellow by Coldplay."
"What is it with you and love songs?"
She laughed. "I don't know. I think they just fill that empty place in my heart where my love life should be. Oh, and by the way"—she began to unpack her guitar after slipping her iPod back into her pocket—"I couldn't tell what each of your 'hn's meant."
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, no, yes. But bring it down a little bit for Yellow; I can't sing that high."
She giggled. "Okay."
As strange as it was, these were the moments that he loved most. Not when she sat close to him while watching television or reading her textbook, or when she was teaching him guitar and her fingers brushed his, or even when she fed him a spoonful of her ice cream. It was being with her, doing something that she loved doing. Watching her having the time of her life, and knowing that he was one of the reasons why she was smiling.
He needed to stop bringing the cheesiness from his books into his actual life. It was shameful.
After a quick tuning, she shot him one of those smiles that made his heart beat even quicker. Thank God he didn't blush obviously; only the tips of his ears went red—and sometimes the back of his neck, if he was incredibly embarrassed. But that rarely happened anyway.
As she played and he sang probably some of the most famous love songs of all time, they attracted more customers—females, really. A smirk involuntarily pulled at his lips at this as they all eyed them. As they watched how, Uchiha Sasuke, the antisocial, legendary author, was having the time of his life.
There was nowhere else he'd rather be.
x
"I'm being offered a lot of press conferences lately," Sasuke said idly, watching her play randomly on her guitar. (She'd been trying songwriting lately, although it wasn't going so well.)
"Not like it matters, since you're going to decline all of them."
"I've actually been thinking of arranging one." He picked at his fingernails for the sake of something to do. "It'll be about Out of Tune, and since it's my most popular book, it'll be advantageous towards me."
"Mm. Then do it."
"I want you to come with me."
She looked up from her guitar, raising an eyebrow amusedly. "You want me to come with you?"
"Yes."
"And why's that? Little Sasuke-kun's too afraid of taking on a couple of reporters and flashing cameras?" she teased. Sasuke was almost positive that he had passed on his sadistic nature onto her, because when he first met her, she would've never said anything like that.
"The main character is based off of you." He rolled his eyes. "It's only natural that they'd want to interview you, too." He wasn't going to tell her that in reality, he just wanted another reason to be with her. Ever since his book was published, there had been this creeping fear at the back of his mind, where Sakura would cut all contact with him, because they had no reason to see each other anymore. He needed those reasons. He took every chance he got.
"Oh." Her strumming quieted a little. "Well, that's okay then…I suppose. I'm not really used to speaking in front of large audiences, though."
"And I am?" He met her uneasy smile with a smirk. "If you stutter over your words, I'll kick you under the table."
"The same goes for you, Mr. Uchiha."
x
Once, while at the mall together, they saw a performer.
He was a man, perhaps in his late forties, early fifties. He was playing an old, battered looking guitar, singing with a rough voice, reminding Sasuke of country artists. The tune he was playing was unrecognizable to him, but it was slow and soft. Much to his surprise, there were a few couples dancing two it.
"Hey, Sasuke, let's dance too." Sakura tugged at his arm. "They look like they're having fun."
"Most likely because they're actually dancing with their significant other."
"Maybe some of them are friends, just like us. You never know." She grinned impishly. "Or are you saying you're just as bad at slow dancing as you are at guitar?"
He scowled. "Nonsense. As an Uchiha, I am trained in everything formal." He glanced at the dancing couples. "And that's not even considered dancing. It's a pathetic excuse for cuddling while standing." Just looking at them gave him the slight urge to vomit.
"Yeah, well," she retorted indignantly, "I like that pathetic excuse for cuddling."
He quirked an eyebrow in amusement. "So you want to cuddle with me."
Her cheeks flushed. "I-Is that a problem?" she muttered, her gaze falling to their feet. A hint of a smile tugged at his lips, but he wouldn't allow it, so he turned it into a smirk.
"Not at all." Walking backwards closer to the performer and the dancing couples, he bowed and held out a hand. "May I have this pathetic excuse for cuddling?" Her giggle was like music to his ears when she took his hand. Straightening up, his hands settled onto her waist while her arms wrapped around his neck. Her body pressed close to his, and he tried, tried to ignore the way his heartbeat sped up, and the way he felt the tips of his ears getting hot.
She was too much. Sakura was always too much.
"Y'know, I wouldn't do this with anyone else in this situation." Her voice was muffled against his shoulder. "So you'd better feel special."
"I wouldn't do this with anyone at all. Do you feel special?" He caught a faint whiff of her shampoo; it smelt like a mix of cherry blossoms and strawberries. Odd—just like her—but pleasant—just like her.
"Whatever." But he could hear that pleased smile in her voice.
They stood there, swaying to the beat—
Cuddling.
x
Yamanaka Ino, Sasuke learned, was a unique, but typical girl.
It was Sakura's birthday, and her best friend had offered to have the party at her house, since she lived in an apartment. Sasuke wasn't sure why he was even a part of this; Naruto and Sakura were the only two he was willing to talk to.
"You should've been at her sweet sixteen." Naruto grinned. "It was crazy."
"The police ended up coming and arresting us for the night because there was alcohol," Shikamaru added lazily.
"Hey, at least you had parents to get pissed at you!"
"My mom went crazy. My dad pat me on the back and said I did a good job."
This year's birthday party was a little more civilized. There was champagne and wine on the refreshment table, as well as juice and a punch bowl that he didn't doubt was spiked. (After years of knowing Naruto, he found that the blonde had an attraction towards bowls of drinks and putting something hazardous in it.) Near the corner of the yard, there was a pit to light a fire. They were roasting s'mores right now.
"Stop wasting the marshmallows, Forehead." Sakura was only roasting and eating the marshmallows, leaving the chocolate and graham crackers for the others. Sasuke's hands were empty; he didn't like sweets.
"I have to eat Sasuke's share, too," the pink-haired girl argued. "Look. He's not eating anything." As if to emphasize what she said, she leaned against him for a moment so their arms were pressed together. He grunted.
"Here, eat some chocolate too." Ino grabbed a chunk of chocolate and shoved it into Sakura's mouth.
"What the hell, Pig!" Sakura turned towards Sasuke pouting and mouth stuffed with chocolate. "She's bullying me, Sasuke!" Her voice was muffled.
He scoffed. "Swallow before you speak. You're being unattractive."
"Oh, so you think she's attractive if she isn't eating chocolate?"
"Don't shove words in my mouth, Yamanaka."
"Tsk. Denial."
The fire was warm—hot, even, against his bare legs. He felt even warmer because Sakura was leaning against him comfortably. Sasuke was new to these kinds of things—expressing intimacy and the sort—but he supposed he could give it a shot, without being disturbingly out of character.
(Yes, he used these terms on himself. It became a habit after finishing that blasted book.)
"I think it's time for presents!" Naruto announced, fingers sticky with marshmallows and chocolate. "What do you say, Sakura-chan?"
"Um, sure," she said, straightening up. "Let's go." The small crowd headed inside, where the presents were stacked. There weren't many—the only people attending the party were Ino, Shikamaru, Naruto and Sasuke—but there were enough packages to look homey.
"Open mine first!" Naruto shoved his messily wrapped gift in Sakura's face. She laughed—it was a laugh that Sasuke had grown to like—as she took it. There were chocolate fingerprints on it.
"Uh—Naruto, what is this?" She brought out a piece of green string. Or—as Sasuke speculated it, it looked more and more like—
"A swimsuit, obviously!"
The tips of Sasuke's ears flared, and he looked away. That stupid, stupid moron—
Ino let out a low whistle. "Smooth, Naruto. I actually have a hot tub that's made to fit ten people. Would you guys like to—"
"No!" Sakura exclaimed, cheeks turning many shades darker than what was possibly humane.
"With that thing in her hand, it sounds like you're suggesting an orgy, or something."
"Not appreciated, Shikamaru!"
Sasuke's lips involuntarily pulled into a faint smirk, and he fought to hide it. Orgy with Sakura, huh—
"Open mine next, Forehead!"
A sparkling, pale blue bag was then placed in front of her. She smiled fondly, as if there was some meaning behind it. "If it's something ridiculous like last year…"
"No black lace lingerie this time, I promise."
Sasuke wondered how Sakura would look in black lingerie…
"Wow, it's something normal this time." Sakura pulled some white fabric out of the bag, which revealed itself to be a plain summer dress with spaghetti straps. It'd look good on Sakura, but he took care to not say it. Her loud mouth was contagious; ever since he met her, he was speaking more and more. "Thanks, Ino." The two girls hugged—something that apparently didn't happen very often, because Naruto and Shikamaru looked absolutely bewildered by it.
"Here." Shikamaru held out a small box as he looked the other way. Sakura accepted it fondly and opened it to find a bracelet with a little music note as a charm.
"This is really thoughtful."
Sasuke tuned them out when she and Shikamaru began to have a chat about the symbolic meaning behind the bracelet.
"Yo." He blinked when Ino snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Where's your present?"
"He probably didn't get me one," Sakura said. "He never gets anyone anything. Right, Sasuke?" She was leaning against him again, like he was some close friend or big brother or something—it was kind of unnerving, actually. Just who did she think he was?
"Just something small," he told her with a smirk. He took his gift—the last one in the pile—and gave it to her. It was cheap and he was sure it would make her happy—so it was all good.
An unfamiliar feeling welled up in him when she unwrapped the wrapping with care and her entire face lit up. He had gotten her a hardcover copy of Out of Tune, and on the title page, his elegant cursive wrote:
Sakura,
Happy twenty-sixth. I'll treat you to ice cream sometime.
Sasuke
When writing the message, he was tempted to add something like "Love," before his name, but that might've ended up in something disastrous. Simplicity was best. Of course.
"You're the best!" she squealed, throwing her arms around him awkwardly and burying her face into his arm. "You're my favorite author—and now I have a personalized message, signature and high-quality book from you! And you're one of my closest friends! You're the best!"
"I know," he said smugly. The smirk on his lips was undeniable. He felt thoroughly pleased with himself.
"Act like an adult, please." Shikamaru yawned. "You just turned twenty-six."
Giggling, Sakura straightened up. "Sorry. Random outburst of complete and utter joy." Something else Sasuke prided himself in was Sakura's expanded vocabulary since she met him. She even sounded intelligent outside of the hospital now. And it only made her more attractive.
x
When it was finally two in the morning and they decided to leave Ino to her beauty sleep, Sakura looked like she was ready to drop dead.
"D'you guys have a way home?" Shikamaru asked with a particularly loud yawn. Naruto was already out cold on the couch, snoring loudly with a line of drool dribbling out of the corner of his mouth.
"We took the bus here," Sasuke said, glancing out the window. Perhaps he could find a taxi—but if worse came to worse, they'd walk. Sakura could crash at his place tonight. He should've drove—but they came from Sakura's place, so he didn't have his car with him.
Shikamaru shrugged. "I have my car—if you'd like, I could give you guys a ride."
"If it isn't too much trouble."
"Not really. Just as long as I don't have to carry him." He pointed his thumb to Naruto.
Ino wrinkled her nose. "He's not sleeping over here tonight. If you guys don't take him, I'm kicking him out."
After setting his lips into a frown, Sasuke strode over to the blonde and promptly kicked him in the gut. He felt some sick sort of satisfaction coming from that. The only reaction he got from Naruto was a spontaneous snore before rolling onto the floor with a loud thump.
And snoring again.
Scowling, Sasuke kneeled down and took Naruto's arm, draping it around his shoulders. He motioned to Sakura with his head. "Do you have all of your gifts?"
Sakura nodded sleepily. "I think so."
"Then let's go."
Sasuke threw Naruto mercilessly into the passenger seat of Shikamaru's jeep and stuffed his legs in so he would fit, before slamming the door and climbing into the back with Sakura. She already had her eyes closed and her head lolled a little to the side.
"Can I borrow your shoulder?" she mumbled softly. Before he could respond, though, she already rested her head against it.
So much for asking. (Not that he had a problem with it, really. She could sleep on him forever, if that was what she wanted.)
Sasuke gave Shikamaru his address before settling back comfortably in his seat. He felt a strange sort of satisfaction—like today was one of the best days of his life. He hadn't felt this way since he was eight, and his older brother, Itachi, had gotten him a crate of tomatoes for his birthday.
He vaguely remembered a scene like this out of Out of Tune. Sakura had fallen asleep on him, and he had brought her to his house and allowed her to sleep in his bed. She woke up with his scent on his pillows, along with the smell of coffee and eggs coming from the kitchen. Much to his dismay, he had written a lot of pointless "fluff" into this book, so it was about twice the size of his regular novels. But he just couldn't find it in himself to take those scenes out.
"Thanks," he told Shikamaru when he stopped in front of his apartment. He nudged Sakura. "Wake up. We're here."
She groaned incomprehensibly before stretching her legs. "Five more minutes…"
"No. Get up."
"You're a jerk." But she sat up anyway, and gathered her things before following Sasuke out of the car. His shoulder felt oddly cold—as if her head belonged there to keep it warm. Frowning, he turned away and made his way into the apartment, not waiting for Sakura to say her goodbyes to Shikamaru.
"Wait for me…" Her voice trailed off as she came to a stop beside him. "Am I staying over tonight?"
"Unless you want to go home."
She paused. "No, not really."
The rode up the elevator in silence, all the way up to the top—to his penthouse. Sasuke took Sakura's belongings from her hands and promptly placed them by the couch. "Go to the bathroom," he instructed her.
"Yes, sir…" And she trudged out of his sight.
Sakura had slept over so many times that she had her own toiletries in his bathroom. He even had one t-shirt and pair of boxers designated to her as her pajamas. Once he thought about it, it was a little ridiculous.
But he wouldn't have it any other way.
He pulled out the black t-shirt and navy boxers that she usually wore and placed them on his bed before gathering his own pajamas and preparing the couch bed.
The running of water stopped in the bathroom and Sakura was out again, eyes only half open. Sasuke rolled his eyes. "Go to my room and sleep."
"Thanks, Sasuke," she mumbled, although he could only hear half of it.
When she woke up the next morning, he hoped she'd notice his smell on the pillows—and he hoped he'd be up before her to make her coffee and eggs.
x
Sakura pulled at her dress nervously—the one she got from Ino. "Are you sure I look okay?"
"Fine." Sasuke pulled at his dress shirt. It felt too tight. He was wearing jeans with his outfit—something that Sakura had insisted looked "fabulous" on him—but despite the semiformal wear, he felt a little constrained. "And me?" he mocked, smirking at her.
She actually took his question seriously, though. "You look too uptight." Reaching out to him, he stiffened when her fingers touched the collar where his hand had been just moments before. "Relax a little." After unbuttoning the top button, she smiled weakly. "There."
"You look a little pale," he pointed out to her.
"You always look pale," she shot back, green eyes twinkling mischievously.
"Uchiha Sasuke and Haruno Sakura, you're on in two minutes!" a voice shouted. Sakura took a deep breath at this, and flattened her dress for the umpteenth time.
He grabbed her wrist. "Stop fidgeting."
"But I'm nervous!" Pulling herself from his grip, she shuffled over to one of the mirrors of the large dressing room, fixing her hair. "Performing in front of an audience, I can handle, but actually talking and answering questions—that's different! I'm not almighty like you!"
"Stop shouting, Sakura. I can hear you."
"Yeah, well, deal with it!"
"You're annoying."
"You're the one who brought me along!"
"I regret it."
Her head whipped around, eyes widened momentarily in surprise. "Yeah, well, you know what?" Turning around and stomping over to him in her loud heels, her lips curled into a frown. "Me too."
He scowled at this. "You're being unreasonable."
"And you're being an asshole!"
"Uchiha Sasuke and Haruno Sakura, you're on!"
At least some color returned to her face due to her frustration, Sasuke thought as he turned swiftly on his feet and strode through the door that led to the conference room, chin held up high like a proper Uchiha. He could hear Sakura click-clacking behind him, but he didn't dare to look back. It was a sign of inferiority.
Cameras flashed and people applauded as they sat at the long rectangular table with microphones already set on it. Sasuke was used to it to a certain extent, but he could imagine Sakura with wide eyes, looking petrified. He tapped the microphone in front of him once to check if it was working, and he saw Sakura do the same with shaky hands out of his peripheral vision.
She was so goddamn stubborn.
His scowl remained set on his features even when the flashes from the cameras stopped, and the talking died down to just murmurs.
He waited. She waited. They all waited.
Finally, one man was courageous enough to ask the first. He had lazy stance when he stood up, his silver hair unruly and in a big need of a haircut. "Uchiha-san, what is your overall impression if your newest novel? Do you feel that it deserves the publicity it has?"
"I don't deny that it's a good piece," he said smoothly, "but I don't find it superior to my other works." He could feel Sakura tensing beside him for obvious reasons—or maybe not so obvious reasons.
He could predict what she'd say if they were alone. "There's nothing outstanding about it because there's nothing outstanding about me." She'd glare and be angry at him until he bought her ice cream, or did something with her like make music or watch Grey's Anatomy.
They'd had numerous arguments in these past two years. But they always made up.
"And Haruno-san," the same silver-haired reporter said, "How do you feel, being the main character of this 'not superior' book?"
"I don't feel it affects me all that much." Her voice was shaky, but steely. "I've been average all my life—it's only natural that a book that I'm in is average as well." His book wasn't average. In relation to his other books, sure, but to the books by other authors, it was spectacular. He couldn't tell her that right now, though. And even if he could, he wouldn't.
"You don't feel offended at all?"
"I was the one who told him to stop making me perfect." She laughed sarcastically. "When you see me, do you think my eyes are shining emerald orbs? I'm not amazing like Uchiha-san here." His eyes narrowed at the way she addressed. He didn't like it coming form her lips at all.
"Uchiha-san," another reporter said, standing up. "Throughout the course of your books, we have always found some similarities between certain characters. An example would be the male protagonist from The Seamstress almost seeming to be the same person as the father in Five Petals. However, your male antagonist from Out of Tune is someone completely new. Is there a reason for it?"
After this, Sasuke decided, he was never having a press conference again. This was why he hated reporters.
"I tend to base my main characters off of people I know. It's easier to write that way."
"Then who is this new character based off of?"
"No one." A grim smirk spread across his lips. "I decided to try my hand at creating me own. Please tell me, Reporter-san—how did I do?"
"W-Well…" It was clear this reporter didn't even open his book; she was just given a bunch of questions to ask. "I found he was very…enchanting." All of his male characters were enchanting. It was a trait of his works.
"I found he was a rather boring character," someone said from the back. "The only change in him was his feelings that were growing at the rate a snail moves. Not well-rounded at all."
His jaw clenched. Of course he wasn't a well-rounded character. He was Uchiha Sasuke. He didn't change; he was constant, and he kept moving forward. He never looked back.
"Haruno-san, do you feel that you could be romantically involved with someone like the male antagonist?"
"Absolutely not," she retorted without hesitation. "He's portrayed to be rude, obnoxious, and emotionally constipated." Emotionally constipated? So that was how she saw him? "I'd call him asexual, too, but he proved that point wrong."
It was official. Sasuke hated press conferences.
x
"Why," she hissed, "are you being such a stubborn jackass?"
His grip tightened on the steering wheel. "Why," he said slowly in retaliation, "are women so annoying?"
"We're only annoying to you, because you don't have an ounce of patience in you!" He would've snapped at her right then and there, but Uchiha Sasuke was known for being silent and apathetic. So he did what he did best: be indifferent. "You…!"
"If you're displeased with me, you don't have to see me again." His tone was grim. "You're not bound to a life with me."
"Good! Stop the car!"
And that he did. Right in the middle of the busy road. It was a miracle that the car behind him didn't crash into him, but it didn't matter anyway; the driver's insurance would cover the damage.
"Get out."
There was a moment of stunned silence.
"What?"
"I said, get out." His jaw clenched and his whole body tensed, because no, he didn't want her to go—he never wanted her to leave and he wanted her to be bound to a life with him—
"Fine. I'll—I'll go." After a few seconds of shuffling of her gathering her belongings, she opened the door and stepped out, right into the bustling traffic.
He waited for a couple of moments just to be safe, before he punched the steering wheel. His car let out a blaring honk, just like the other cars around him that told him to get a move on. He was tempted to look out the window and check if she made it to the sidewalk safely, but his dignity told him otherwise.
Don't look back.
He drove forward, always keeping his eyes ahead.
Don't ever look back.
09-13-09: ahhh m00kie, how did you do on your history? I GOT 62%! HOLY SHIZNITS, I PASSED. (i bet you did 873492 times better. ;)