With her cell phone pressed against her ear, Sarada sat curled up on her balcony. Dark eyes wandered over the cityscape glowing in the setting sun. It was a warm, peaceful evening, but that didn't stop Sarada from anxiously chewing on her nails.

"I mean, yeah, I think we're ready. Dress rehearsals have been going about as smoothly as I could hope. Tsunade has barely snapped at anyone all week," she recounted, attempting to keep her tone light.

The days until opening night could now be counted on her fingers. And that fact had Sarada struggling to convince herself that all her preparation would be enough not to embarrass everyone she cared about.

Her report was met with a humorous giggle. "Well that's definitely a good sign!" her mother replied. "And hopefully after this weekend, you'll feel recharged and ready to put on your best performance!"

Sarada swallowed the sudden lump in her throat as their conversation transitioned to the topic she actually had called to discuss. "So I've been thinking and I decided I do want to bring a friend to the beach house, if that's still okay."

"Just one?"

Sarada's lips pressed into a firm line, wondering how her mother ever got the impression she had an abundance of friends. "Yes, just one. You met him at the fundraiser."

Sakura inhaled a dramatic gasp. "The Uzumaki boy?! Oh my gosh! I could totally tell he was in love with you!"

"That's not true," she grumbled as a weird feeling knotted in her stomach. With all its complications, their relationship had remained unlabeled. But even though things were going relatively well, it was hard to believe Boruto (or anybody else) would fall in love with her the way she was now. "We're just friends."

"Sure, sure, whatever you say, honey!" The teasing tone of her voice implied she was about to make this weekend painfully awkward. "Your dad and I can't wait to see you!"

"Me too. I'll be sure to let you know when we're on our way." Sarada hung up the phone with a sigh, questioning if inviting Boruto to her family's beach vacation was a good idea.

They had been unofficially living together for two and a half weeks, and in that time she had been able to resist all of her worst habits.

Though she couldn't tell yet if her eating the small, healthy meals Boruto prepared for her came from a desire to break her usual cycle or not wanting to disappoint him. Either way, she recognized he was the cornerstone of her progress, and being away from him made her nervous, particularly if she was going to be with her mother who had a tendency to say the wrong thing.

Her fingers crept over the armrest to give Boruto's hand a squeeze. "Thank you for coming with me," Sarada whispered as they settled into their seats on the train.

Blue eyes glanced up as a teasing smile spread across his lips. "You know, I'm glad you appreciate my sacrifice! I traded spending my weekend alone doing absolutely nothing to be with you on this all-expenses-paid vacation to the most lavish beach in the country."

Sarada laughed and playfully rolled her eyes. Boruto laced his fingers with hers. "Thank you for inviting me."

"Maybe don't thank me until this weekend is through," she tried to joke. "My mom can be a little… enthusiastic. I don't doubt she'll have a million questions for you about your hopes and dreams and our relationship."

"If I'm with you, I'm sure it'll be fine."

A warm feeling bloomed in Sarada's chest as she allowed her head to rest against his shoulder in a half hug. It was funny because she felt exactly the same way.

When she thought about going to the beach house with her parents, it was easy to imagine dozens of scenarios that could trigger her. The compounding stress of opening night, an off-handed comment from her mother, or simply comparing her body to the other bikini-clad beachgoers.

But in the last few weeks, being with Boruto brought her a comfort she couldn't quite articulate. It was like once she finally started to let him in, his warm sunshine presence scared away the shadows that so often haunted her mind.

Boruto had met Sasuke and Sakura Uchiha before. He was aware of their friendship with his father and their generous support of Konoha Ballet. When he agreed to accompany Sarada on this trip, he had no worries about making a good impression. But as the conductor announced their imminent arrival, he could practically feel himself absorbing the nervous energy Sarada was radiating.

He couldn't recall Sarada ever talking about her parents beyond the occasional weekend visit. Given her mother's reputation, he had just assumed it was the same reason he didn't talk about his dad. He wanted to be known for his own merit, not to be tied to his father's long-standing career in the industry.

But with the way her knee kept anxiously bouncing, Boruto began to question if there was more friction he wasn't aware of.

Then again, it could have to do with her eating disorder.

Sarada told him no one else knew, and if that was the case, he couldn't imagine the stress that came with trying to hide something like that. The sheer terror etched on her face when he found her in his bathroom continued to break his heart.

What did she fear he would say?

Did she fear even worse from her parents?

Sarada had barely shared anything more about her compulsions or what triggered them, but what he had gleaned was that she doesn't refer to her issue as an eating disorder.

Avoiding naming the problem felt like a coping mechanism Boruto was all too familiar with. It took him months before he could say out loud that his mom had died. As if admitting that she was gone was what made it true.

But the toughest pill to swallow was he couldn't begin to heal without accepting the reality of his mother's absence. It was hard to go to his parents' house after almost a year, and it was even harder to talk honestly with his father about all the feelings he had been trying to bury. But with Sarada's support, he was able to do those things and he felt lighter because of it.

Boruto gingerly reached out, resting his hand on her bouncing knee. "Everything is going to be okay. And if it's too much, then we'll leave."

He wanted to be able to give her that same support while she valiantly tried to heal.

Between getting picked up from the train station, driving down to the beach, and getting a tour of the house, her mother managed to refer to Boruto as her boyfriend at least three times. He didn't seem uncomfortable or feel the need to correct her, and yet Sarada was embarrassed by the prospect that Boruto might assume that's how she described their relationship.

After dinner and Sakura not so slyly setting them up in the same guest bedroom, they finally had a private moment together since getting off the train.

Boruto rummaged through his duffle bag, pulling out a t-shirt and the pair of sweat shorts he was always wearing around the apartment. Sarada sat on the bed in her nightshirt, watching him prepare for bed as her fingers twiddled anxiously in her lap.

"When I told my mom you were coming, I said that you were my friend," she blurted, hoping to set the record straight. "I'm sorry if you feel weird that she keeps calling you my boyfriend."

Blue eyes flickered up to her then back down to his clothes laid out on the bed. A moment of silence lingered between them before he shyly mumbled, "I could be."

"What?"

"I could be your boyfriend…" Boruto shrugged before peeking up to gauge her reaction. "If you wanted."

Sarada blinked at him, processing his words but they just didn't compute. "But I…" her voice trailed off. She felt like such a mess right now, why would he be trying to commit himself to her like that?

"You can think about it."

"Are you sure?" she questioned without thinking. His brows scrunched in confusion, so she attempted to elaborate. "I mean, I just feel like you have so many other options."

Boruto shook his head as he moved his duffle to the floor to sit on the bed with her. "I don't know if that's true, but honestly maybe I don't notice because the only girl I have eyes for is you."

He reached out and grabbed her hand, blue eyes brimming with tender affection as he continued, "I think you know that, too. I just don't understand why you won't accept it. So many times I've tried to convey the way I feel about you, the way I see you… why won't you let me love you?"

Her heart was already fluttering wildly from his sweet affirmations but the pleading question stole the breath from her lungs. Even if she was willing to believe he wanted to be with her, it wasn't that simple.

"I-I swear, it's not you. I'm just…" Sarada clenched her eyes shut, hoping the right words would appear in her head. "I'm not ready! I mean before getting into a relationship I need to feel confident in myself and in my career…"

She omitted the part where she believed being named prima ballerina would give her those things. The role was supposed to fill her with such joyful radiance that a man would see her dancing and only then would he fall in love with her.

But maybe she didn't feel that fulfillment because she had yet to perform as prima. There was always the possibility that if she did everything perfectly on opening night that all the pieces would fall into place and she would finally feel the happiness and self-assurance she had been yearning for.

"I need to get my life together…" Emotionally she was still all over the place.

"I need to lose some weight…" As the excuses tumbled from her lips, Sarada realized what she was actually saying was that she didn't feel worthy.

Hot tears slowly invaded her vision. She had always imagined that if she could just reach her goals, look a certain way, and shine on stage, then that's when love would find her.

She never expected anyone could love her while she was still so imperfect.

Before her tears could even fall down her cheeks, Boruto was pulling her onto his lap. His arms wrapped around her middle, squeezing her tight as she buried her face against his neck.

"I'm sorry," Sarada muttered. Sorry for crying when they were supposed to be having a fun weekend. Sorry for whatever reasons he imagined she kept pushing him away. Sorry for always ruining everything.

Boruto quietly held her for a few moments, waiting for the perfect comforting words to surface in his mind. He sighed when nothing came. There was no magic phrase that would cure her warped self-perception.

"Sarada, I've said before that I think you're talented and beautiful, and so deserving of being prima ballerina. But if you won't believe all that, I hope at the very least you'll believe this – I want to be with you even if you feel like you're still a work in progress."

She sniffled before slowly rearing back to look at him, face to face. Wet and rimmed red, her dark eyes were storming with so many emotions as she whispered, "really?"

Boruto combed his fingers through her raven hair, tucking her stray bangs behind her ear, and rested his forehead against hers. "Yes, really."

He waited for a beat, unsure if Sarada would continue to protest, but instead, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. Despite spending so much time together in the last few weeks, neither tried to initiate anything physical.

Well, except when he was trying to avoid going to his parents' house…

But that may have been a pattern for both of them. Burying the feelings they were unwilling to have. Using sex as a distraction that left Sarada feeling guilty and avoidant, and him even more lonely than before.

This time felt different. Each kiss they shared was slow and tender and full of understanding. It felt oddly vulnerable knowing neither was hiding anymore.

Their lips parted for a brief moment as Sarada tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it off the side of the bed. Her palms returned to slide up his tanned chest and wrap around his neck. Boruto reconnected their kiss as he leaned forward, following her as she fell back against the pillows.

Allowing his weight to rest on his elbow, Boruto hovered over her. Sarada's fingers tangled into the hair at his nape, scratching gently against his scalp and making him groan.

So badly, he had missed the taste of her kisses, the feel of her smooth skin, and the soft little moans that fell from her lips each time his touch wandered over her most sensitive areas.

Taking his time, his hand leisurely glided over the curve of her hip and down her thigh to push up the edge of her oversized nightshirt and expose her bare chest. Sarada shivered when the cool air from the ceiling fan danced across her naked skin, gasping as Boruto teased her pert nipples with gentle fingers.

Her body was writhing beneath his touch, telling Boruto she was getting restless. But given the way his hips mindlessly rut against her hip suggested he wasn't much better. All the lusty thoughts he had repressed while snuggling in her bed every night seemed to emerge to the surface.

"Please, Boruto~" Her whimpered plea was enough to shatter what remained of his self-control. His hand snuck beneath her lacy panties and slipped between her folds to find her needy clit. Her back arched as his slick fingers applied the perfect amount of pressure to have her breath quicken.

He relished in the sound of her soft moans and the way her moist walls clenched around his fingers. But he was growing impatient, aching to slip his cock inside her wet heat.

Sarada's heavy eyes fluttered open when his fingers disappeared, but when she noticed Boruto pulling off his pants, she was quick to follow suit. She slipped off her panties and centered herself on the bed before he crawled over her. Reconnecting their lips with a heated kiss, he reached between their bodies, stroking his length as he aligned himself at her entrance.

He tilted his hips forward, slowly sinking inside her tight warmth. A low groan spilled from his lips as he retreated and pushed back into her again and again, establishing a steady rhythm.

With her hips still firmly in her grip, Boruto eventually pulled back to look at her. He had made a habit of observing Sarada, trying to read her expression in hopes of understanding what was going on in her mind. When they were in bed together was no exception, it was gratifying watching her come undone from his ministrations.

Her raven hair splayed across a fluffy, ivory pillow and her skin flushed with desire. Her shirt haphazardly pushed up, showing off her perky breasts bouncing each time he thrust inside her.

But what Boruto hadn't realized until that moment was – Sarada had always closed her eyes.

She'd lose herself in the pleasure he offered, which he had taken as a compliment. But when he glanced up at her face this time, hazy half-lidded dark eyes stared back at him and suddenly each time their hips connected felt all the more intimate.

"Fuck," he muttered between panting breaths. His thrusts grew slower, deeper, more intentional. The tension building in his low belly was coiling tighter as he savored each desperate whimper that fell from her lips.

Boruto released her hip to allow his hand to venture between their bodies. Their eye contact persisted as his thumb began stroking her clit in steady circles. It was only a few moments later Sarada reached that blissful peak. Her fingers twisted into the sheets below her as her body throbbed with pleasure. He buried his face in the side of her neck, hips never ceasing their rhythm until he reached his own finish.