Excuses
He knew that he should stay away from her.
So he tried avoiding the Uzumaki house for a few days. It made him antsy to the point that even Sakura noticed how snappish he was through her after-work fatigue. He would have stayed away longer but she showed up on his doorstep with a new welcome mat and coffee.
Naruto had asked him to check in on her.
His attitude was disturbing what little rest Sakura managed to get between shifts.
There were a million excuses that he could come up with. A million reasons why he kept returning. Each morning one would pop up in his head and he'd find himself once more in her company. Their acquaintance- because he refused to think of her as a friend- extended further than the kitchen table.
She'd gotten bolder. More demanding in her own quiet way. She liked visiting cafes and reading to civilian children at the library. He'd humor her and tag along, carrying her bags if need be because he had nothing better to do.
When the leaves dyed themselves vibrant shades of red and yellow he found himself in the park watching them descend to earth by her side. The leaves themselves weren't interesting. Their conversations unremarkable.
She liked maple cookies.
He liked seasonal fish.
She walked more closely beside him through the streets, the side of her arm occasionally brushing his own. She sat beside him, her thigh pressed against his.
For warmth was one excuse. Because she wasn't paying attention was another.
She told him more of her secrets, of a mother she missed. Her desire to return to the life of a kunoichi. Of a wedding she'd yet to pick a date for.
Talks of weddings irritated him though because they were annoying ceremonies of pomp and circumstance. Because Sakura was dropping hints as winter loomed closer. Because he could picture Hinata in a wedding kimono and the thought was unsettling.
It was when the last of the leaves had finally fallen that he found himself once again in the park. The bench they sat on had more than enough room for two yet she was pressed closely against his side. Her head rested on his shoulder, the lavender scent of her shampoo mixing with encroaching winter air.
He knew that she'd fallen asleep as she tended to do more often as the weather grew colder.
He knew that he should wake her.
He knew that it would be inconvenient to explain to a passerby.
He knew…he was running out of excuses.