note.

Firing out chapters for the Valentine's weekend!

Since the last chapter was more on an outsider's view of their relationship, I'm inserting a little more romance here.

track 11.

Lying on his bed, Sasuke took up as much space as possible. Keeping Sakura from being able to sit with him, and forcing her to occupy his black draughtsman. He had done it as a precaution in case his mother suddenly walked in on them both sitting on his bed and getting the wrong idea.

Or Sakura getting the wrong idea.

Flipping through the unlined moleskin sitting on Sasuke's desk, Sakura peered through the ink scratched pages. Drawn by the hands, written in with calloused fingers of the boy she admired.

Promise.

The song title is messily underlined. An unplanned mark against polished lean cuts and cursive fonts with sharp loops.

It was the only named track. All his songs nameless.

"Write me a song?"

The words leave her before she can take the words back, and she regrets it as soon as Sasuke snaps a 'no' and snatches the notebook out of her hand.

"Sakura... I won't write you a song." He shut the pages, holding it protectively by his side. "Don't ask me again."

Sakura hadn't meant it seriously. To take things too seriously when it came to Sasuke meant it would only cause her hurt. And she wasn't stupid enough to do that. To risk her heart unarmored against him.

Looking at him shuffling the book back onto the already overflowing shelf - a place it didn't seem to belong, she wondered just why she had to say it.

It only proved that she had overestimated her control as well.

Because it had hurt. A dull ache she hadn't thought existed tightened in her chest.

She knew Sasuke hadn't meant for her to be hurt. That only made it worse, as if it was some sick sort of proof that he still didn't understand how much his opinion mattered to her.

Or that he simply didn't care for her as much as she did.

He must've noticed her silence, or her down cast eyes that looked anywhere but him, and he tilts her head back up. "Don't take it personally. I haven't ever written anyone a song. Specific people - people I know- have never been something I've felt obligated to write about."

"Ever? Not even your parents?" She plucks his hand from under her face, unconsciously tracing the pads of his thumbs. "I thought you were the filial one, Sasuke-kun." Sasuke can only shake his head at an angle, a smirk on his face as his expressions grows incredulous at how ridiculous she is.

"Ever."

They drop next to each other on his bed, and when Sakura shivers from the breeze of an opened window, he smooths the duvet over them. Earlier worries bygone.

He wants to know about her parents too, but from her earlier teasing and aversion to going home, he understands that their relationship may not be something she wants to share. With his own inclination to not always tell Sakura everything, he doesn't know if he even has the right to ask about something so personal.

"Sasuke-kun, why don't your songs have names?" She pauses, but Sasuke can't tell whether it's from fear of rejection again (curiously, Sakura seemed less inclined to have cared for his opinion when she first confessed; but now it seemed like he was no longer the sole person holding onto to the other's every word), or because she's debating whether he's a fan of the literature she disregards next. "And don't go pulling the 'what's in a name' bullshit on me."

"If the songs had a name, people would feel more inclined to interpret the music my way. I want my songs to be relatable to everyone. Each person having their own version of the song. But generic titles would cheapen them - so I'd rather leave them nameless."

Sakura leaned down, elbows propping her up. "Are you sure that's not just an excuse because you can't make up good names?"

"That too." He chuckled, poking her forehead, causing her to playfully hit back.

"And you, since we're on the topic of names - why do you attach 'kun' to my name only?"

He noticed it.

Sakura's heart skipped a beat.

"I dunno. I guess, for me, you've always just been Sasuke-kun."

Crescendo. Accelerando.

The staccato suffix had become her own version of a love song.