Summary:
It had been five years since Sasuke Uchiha had fallen out of Sakura Haruno's orbit. Five years of college, of fighting with his family, of dreading existence. Five years of desperately running. But a random day she reaches out to him, and face to face with radiation green eyes and flooded with memories of unfinished kisses and cold winter nights, he finds himself caught again in her orbit.
It had been five years since Sakura Haruno and Sasuke Uchiha's relationship had crumbled at the direction of his father. It had been five years of spiraling, of isolating herself from everyone she cared about, of starving herself until she is nothing but skin and bone. Five years failing to find refuge in herself. But when she needs him, he comes to her, and she finds herself desperately wishing things had been different.
Or once upon a time Sasuke and Sakura were stupid kids who fell in love, let life tear them apart, and are fighting to maybe find each other in the future.
Author's Note:
Hello, I know, I know. I have a problem. I have so many stories in progress, but, this one is utterly special in my heart. I wrote it about a decade ago as a fanfic, converted it into an original story which I never tried to release, and here I am reworking it into its original intention as a SasuSaku fanfic.
That being the case, I have about 20 chapters already written, so I'm hoping this will be a bi weekly update for you guys. I really hope you like it and enjoy reading it.
Thanks for stopping by!
"Run quick, they're behind us, Didn't think we'd ever make it, This close to safety in one piece, Now you want to kill me in the act of what could maybe Save us from sleep and what we are."
A Favor House Atlantic, Coheed and Cambria
Now.
"One mocha please," a tired, twenty-three-year-old Sakura Haruno said the words evenly, green eyes unfocused on the cashier behind the faux marble countertop covered in coffee-themed Konoha memorabilia. It was barely seven in the morning, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl back to her apartment and fall into a coma. She pushed unnecessary bug-eyed sunglasses higher on her nose, adding: "And a double shot espresso," with the movement.
Roasted's cashier nodded, brown hair knotted and rumbled. He typed in the order into the POS system before mumbling a total. Barely paying attention, Sakura pulled crumpled bills from her pocket. A fistful of rattling change was thrust back into her hand as he turned around with a yawn to make up the order.
Sakura shuffled to her left towards the corner of the counter where the finished drinks would be deposited. Crossing her arms she surveyed the same wares of mugs and tumblers for sale that had graced the shelves for the last few years. She didn't bother looking around at the rest of the interior. She knew the layout of the building more intimately than her own home. The emergency exit door in the far left of the sitting area, the overstuffed leather chairs pushed around wooden tables, and the intermingled bookshelves buckling under free books and board games. There was a pleasant tinkling of the glass door that signaled another patron entered the establishment. She didn't need to look up to know it was a couple of sorority girls who studied early in the morning, nor did she need to search for the ancient couple that always sat at the front right leather seats, sharing coffee and breakfast bagels.
This was Sakura's spot. Even with the leaky ceiling tile in the woman's restroom and the too loud whirring of the espresso machines, she belonged here. This was a place that made Sakura feel at home, safe, and something close to calm.
She rubbed at a sore spot on her upper arm, at the bruise covered by her sleeves, as the man behind the counter, his name tag read Kankuro in thick, straight, black lines, slid two steaming mugs towards her.
"Sakura," he said softly. She nodded her thanks, tucking a piece of pixie pink hair behind her ear and adjusting the strap of her purse before reaching for the mugs. The warmth of the ceramic was welcome on her cold, thin hands. She shuffled over to her usual spot to wait.
The back left corner, right in front of the emergency exit, was the best seat in the house. She could easily watch the entirety of the establishment while working on homework, and the speaker was far enough away here that she didn't have to have her headphones turned up too high to cover the pop music that they generally played. She set the cups down gently on the table, ignored the cracked linoleum that shifted under her toes as she settled into the too large, too soft leather chair. She dropped her rucksack to the floor unceremoniously while pushing the sunglasses onto her head and pulled her cell phone from her pocket.
She thumbed past a random text from her estranged friend Hinata, vaguely glanced at a handful of messages telling her about a party in Kiri that the Shit Pistols were invited to, before finally sighing and opening a message from her boyfriend Suigetsu.
It was saccharine sweet, almost nauseatingly so, especially after the vitriol he spit in her face only the night before. She nearly winced with the fresh memory, fingers running over the tender spot on her arm where he had grabbed her so tightly. She frowned at his sweeping apologies and empty promises and the excuses of being so stressed on tour and of missing her. Sakura would have scoffed in his face had he been in front of her.
She sneered as she started typing out a response, intent on expressing how very much she doubted all of those sentiments and how she wasn't going to let this issue drop for what felt like the thousandth time, when a body dropped gracefully into the leather chair across from her.
Radiation green eyes flickered up from her tirade, brows lifted in surprise at the boy – no he was a man now – man who had settled in front of her. She knew he was coming; he had agreed to meet her here after all, but she felt her lungs constrict anyways and tears prickle as soft as ghosts at the back of her eyes.
"Sasuke," it fell softly from her mouth, and she quickly turned her phone screen off, text forgotten, to really acknowledge him.
"Sakura," he offered as a response. Long fingers reached for the cups between them, skipping the mug with melting whipped cream to pull the other towards him. His Adam's apple bobbed as he took a drink of the liquid before licking his lips and setting his dark gaze on hers. "Double shot espresso," he said flatly, obviously bored. "I'm flattered you remembered my order."
"I know we haven't done this in a hot minute," she offered, leaning back into the cushion of her chair, "But how could I forget, you must have drunk a thousand of them back in the day, it's been burned into my mind's eye."
She must have been more exhausted than she thought she was because for the briefest of heartbeats she thought the corner of his mouth tilted up. But any indication was quickly lost to her as radiation green met those black, starless eyes that she noted still held no light in them. And even after five years apart, five years without her bullshit, he was still so obviously tired. Onyx bags hung deep in the tender flesh beneath his eyes, made more prominent from the alabaster tone of his skin.
"Aa," he replied, and Sakura realized the time away from her once best friend, even with his three-year long relationship with Ino, had not broadened his vocabulary one bit.
She nearly sighed at the thought, it would make what she needed from him all the more difficult.
"So," she started, glancing at his large hands and the way his knuckles and strong tendons were so defined as he lifted the cup to his lips again. "How have you been?"
He shrugged, and even that simple movement was heartbreakingly elegant on his shoulders. "Fine. You?"
"Oh, you know, same as always." She forced a chuckle from her throat, but it felt flat and hollow. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and she cursed him for still being able to read her so easily. She looked away from him, watching the elderly couple gather their trash and belongings to leave the coffee shop. Her decision to ask him here suddenly crashed down on her shoulders with the realization of how bad of an idea it was. She swallowed and stared at her untouched mug. "I'm sorry it's so early. I figured we could get this over with so you can go back to your regularly scheduled programming and forget I exist again." It came out with a rueful smile, an attempt at a joke of some sort, but resent had seeped into her voice unintentionally.
Sasuke did not wince, did not outwardly change in appearance, but she almost felt him hesitate. Sakura closed her eyes and took a breath. This isn't how she wanted – needed – this meeting to go. Sighing, she offered a small genuine smile and tried again.
"This," she bit her lower lip, it hurt with the way the skin was already chapped and irritated from her worrying at it. "This is kind of weird. I could really go for a smoke, do you want to come out with me?" without waiting for a solid response, she pulled her sunglasses back over her eyes, leaned over to rifle through her bag. She pulled a cigarette out of her pack and tucked it behind her ear, fuchsia hair curling wickedly around the cancer stick, and was halfway standing when Sasuke replied.
"I quit a few months ago."
"Because Ino didn't like it?"
Sasuke slid down a little in his seat, picking at a hairline fracture in the rim of his cup with the edge of his fingernail. She hadn't meant the searing irritation to lace her words again, but it seemed like she couldn't help it.
"You can go ahead; I'm not going to stop you."
"No way, Uchiha," Sakura fully stood and kicked at his shoe. "Come out with me, it'll be just like old times, but with our roles reversed."
He glanced up at her, a skeptical look flittering over his features before resigning himself to his fate. He stood as Sakura grabbed her coffee cup and phone in a single hand and laced her other arm through Sasuke's. She pulled him along with her as she moved towards the door.
"Kankuro," she called over her shoulder. "We're going for a smoke, doll, watch the table please." She flashed a smile, and the brown-haired boy nodded weakly.
The air outside of Roasted was warmer than usual for an April day in Konoha. The birds were chirping in a nearby oak trees, and cars were speeding along the main highway, heading to work or school. Sakura dropped Sasuke's arm to maneuver the cigarette from behind her ear and lit it while managing to balance her phone and coffee. She inhaled deeply, comforted by the familiar burn of nicotine wafting through her lungs.
"So," she halfheartedly blew her smoke away from him. "Tell me everything. I don't like the awkward bullshit, so let's speedrun a catch up so we can get to business."
Sasuke rolled his neck, hands tucked deep into his pockets. "Nothing really." He kicked at last year's mulch littering the sidewalk. "I quit smoking a while ago but-"
"Oh, quit the bullshit, Sasuke." She bit on her filter, pink brows angling down on her forehead. She puffed and pointed at him with the cigarette resting between her fingers. "I know we haven't seen each other in a long time, but that doesn't mean I don't know when you're shitting me. Tell me something real.
"Tell me," her hand waved through the air, smoke trailing around her with the movement. " Did Ino actually make you quit? Are you guys engaged yet? How is Naruto, is he still with-" she frowned almost asking about Hinata. "Tell me about you." She said instead.
Sasuke sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Yea, Ino was never big on smoking, she's way too health conscious for it. But… i-it was my decision in the end." He cleared his throat and stuffed his hand back into his pocket. "Ino is... Ino is good. At Otogakure studying communications right now, probably being amazing. She's not going to be back for a while, there's some summer internship or something she's doing at the college." The way he spoke wasn't forlorn, but it was off, there was some kind of emotion tinting it, but Sakura wasn't sure she ever witnessed Sasuke display it before.
"I bet that's hard," she managed to say it softly, the words barely drifting around the filter in her mouth. "Having her so far away." This time when she blew smoke, she really did try and blow it away from him.
"It is." Sasuke almost opened his mouth to tell her about the explosive fighting, the anxiety inducing realization that Ino – his once perfect Ino – had found someone else while she was so far away from him. But he coughed, scratched at his forearm, before deciding against it. "Naruto is Naruto. He threw a full blown rager last week, shit got absolutely stupid." He was chewing the inside of his cheek. Sakura could tell by the way his jaw muscles were working. "I was surprised you didn't show up. Hinata was there."
"Of course, Hinata would be there," she rolled her eyes behind her obnoxious sunglasses. "They're together, if she didn't show up for one of his infamous parties something would be seriously wrong with them." She shook her head before carefully brushing her short bangs back into place. She didn't notice the way Sasuke's eyes honed in on the sick yellow coloring a patch of her forehead near her eye while her hair had been displaced.
"It would have been weird if I showed up." She took a long drag, frowning at how quickly her cigarette was turning to ash. "I mean this is proof of how fucking weird it would have been." Her boney hand motioned at the void space between them. "Besides," she shrugged and exhaled. "The Shit Pistols finally got picked up for that cross country tour this summer. There was a huge party, I think it was the day of Naruto's." She shrugged. "I had to send Sui off with a proper farewell. He would have lost his shit if I didn't." She didn't mention how he had lost his shit anyways. She sighed and rolled the cigarette mindlessly between her fingers. "You know Suigetsu."
Sasuke nodded his head, crossing his arms. He did know Suigetsu. Almost everyone knew Suigetsu.
The conversation lagged and it stabbed somewhere close to her heart. She dropped ashes onto the concrete and rambled. "How is running going? Are you still winning every trophy known to cross country?"
He shook his head. "Not like high school. Father is breaking my balls about winning the next meet and not so gently reminding me Itachi did it in under half the time, and if I don't at least match Itachi's pace, I might as well kill myself." His jaw muscles ground, no longer chewing at the inside flesh of his cheek. "But what the fuck ever, you know? I don't depend on them anymore, so it doesn't matter."
"Gotcha," Sakura said softly. He wasn't looking at her, and she dropped her gaze to stare at the ground. She adjusted her glasses and wondered if seven a.m. was too early for shades. Sasuke remained silent, and it was making her itch.
"If you don't want to be here, you can leave." She sort of hoped he would just go. After maybe fifteen minutes together Sakura remembered why this hadn't worked out in the first place. Five years ago, when they were just stupid kids. Before Suigetsu, alcohol, Ino, and poorly made decisions.
He appeared to contemplate it, his head cocking to the side as he kicked at the bleached-out mulch again. Sakura wondered if they would replace it soon.
"No," he finally responded. "Not yet." She missed the way his black eyes inspected her forehead. "You said you needed help with something. So here I am. Help."
She gave him a wry smile as she took a final drag from her cigarette and snuffed it out under her shoe. "Then, this is a fair warning. I refuse to be held accountable for any mental damage inflicted on you for the rest of our time together today. Leave now, or forever hold your peace." She turned away from him without further ado, heading back towards the café. Against his better judgement, though spurred with quiet concern, he followed the pink haired woman back inside.
They settled into their seats; Sasuke had his feet thrown up on an extra chair he had pulled over while Sakura's knees were tucked into her chest. She scrounged around her bag again and pulled out a beat-up red notebook and a black pen. Sasuke drained the last few drops of espresso from his cup as she prepared. He was wondering about another cup, eyeing the half drank mocha Sakura had, as she started talking.
"Let's get this over with so you can…" she was about to fire off some line about him being a douche, but he hadn't been the one to be problematic between the two of them that morning. She forced a smile. "So, you can go running with Naruto or something. Okay. When you imagine your perfect woman, what do you see?"
For the first time in maybe her life, Sakura saw his eyes light up, a little gleam in the corner that showed he thought she was joking. But as she stared at him, expectantly, his eyes narrowed to slits and his mouth set into a dangerously flat line. She could only imagine all the mother fuckings she was getting inside his head. It was seven a.m. and anyone who knew Sasuke Uchiha knew he did not operate in the mornings.
" Excuse me?" he sputtered.
"Your perfect woman, Sasuke, tell me about her." He glared at her, and she set her jaw. "Listen, I know-" he stood up and walked away from her. "Hey!" she shouted. He sneered at her over his shoulder but continued to move away from her until he made it to the front counter.
He came back a few minutes later with one of the largest coffee cups she had ever seen. He took a long drink from it before setting it down and pinching the bridge of his nose.
"What is this about?" his voice was nearly pained as he asked.
"I know it's stupid," she said quickly, it felt like she had an elevator pitch's worth of his attention to win him over. "I don't want to fucking do it, but Yamato's my psych professor and he allowed me an extension to finish this stupid project, and I can't pass psych unless I do it. I need to pass psych so I can move on to a real school that isn't this fucking community college a-and he wants me to do a research paper on the effects of women's self-esteem being intricately linked to men's perspectives on them and he said I have to personally interview at least ten people – a-and… Sasuke you're the last person I need to do this stupid paper and I don't know why I couldn't think of anyone else to ask-"
"Alright, alright." He gave her the eye roll of the century; it was so large his neck even rolled as a sigh escaped his mouth at the same moment. He nodded, resigning himself to his fate. "Fine, fine. Go, ask me again."
She did, but the next two hours did not pass kindly.
Sakura was barely able to extricate three half-assed answers out of Sasuke. Her black pen was tapping dangerously against the wooden table top. A flock of empty coffee cups littered the space between them, and a headache pounded behind Sasuke's forehead.
"Seriously, Uchiha," Sakura huffed. "All I need is you to answer my questions. How hard is it to say whether you prefer girls with curly or straight hair, or if tall girls get it hard more than short girls. Jesus, it's your opinion." Her jaw was set, and she couldn't stop fidgeting with her pack of cigarettes on the tabletop.
"I already told you, Haruno, I don't know." He mimicked her irritated glare perfectly and swallowed another mouthful of a sixth espresso. He could feel his nerve endings firing at an accelerated rate, his heart pounding viciously and painfully in his chest. His legs were physically itching with the desire to run. "It all depends. I can't say curly is better than straight or that blonds are hotter than brunettes. I know a pretty girl when I see her."
Sakura rubbed her temples, all color blanching from her face before red started to gather in her cheeks in irritation. After taking a short breath, she hissed: "That's all I'm fucking asking you, what do you see!"
He growled and tried to ignore the fact that her bubblegum pink hair was practically glimmering in his eyes. "When I say see, I mean see her. Not what her hair length is, not her breast size, not whether she's tall enough for me to just bend over and fuck anywhere. When I see someone, I try and look at them, at the person they are. What they like, dislike, how they smile and laugh." His nostrils were flaring in irritation. What kind of person did Sakura think he was? He wasn't concerned with such shallow concepts as looks. He noted that her black pen was absolutely flying across the sheet, and he frowned deeply at it in annoyance. "She could be the most conventionally beautiful girl in the world, but if there isn't something there, then I don't give a fuck." He finished. His hands had wrapped into loose fists and his legs were violently shaking under the table.
. . Whispered in the back of his mind and he closed his eyes.
The last bits of ink hadn't yet dried before she lifted her face to him with the first real smile of the day nestled on her lips. He missed it with his eyes still closed but heard her swallow and could imagine she was biting at her lip again. "But what do beautiful girls look like to you Sasuke? You have to have some kind of standard or attraction, even if you are asexual."
"Asexual?" his eyes snapped open. That's not what he said. "I didn't-"
She lifted a hand to stop him. "Demisexual more likely, potato potahto." She said softly. "You essentially said you need an emotional connection to be attracted to someone, right?" he bit his tongue as she tucked at the unruly fuchsia hair around her ears. He tried to ignore the way his heart was thundering against his ribcage and how her lashes looked almost black against her pale skin.
He shrugged at her question. She wasn't wrong, but he never thought it was unusual to want an emotional connection to someone to be attracted to them. He hadn't known there was a word for it. Or maybe more than one.
"If you close your eyes," she asked softly, "and imagine someone who has all the things you listed," she glanced down at her notes, "when you see them, and imagine them in your mind's eye, do they have any defining characteristics?"
He inhaled, and at her expectant look, he shut his eyes. His legs were still seizing under the table, heart still pounding and rushing blood in his ears. But he obeyed. He thought and tried to imagine.
Someone who he saw , who he noticed their laugh and smile. Who he felt like he connected with, likes and dislikes of an imaginary person he could find attractive, who he maybe could fall in love with.
Flashes of fuchsia pink and radiation green flooded his mind, and he felt heat rise into his cheeks and his heart stutter in his chest.
"What are you seeing?" she asked gently. "What does she look like?"
His eyes were squeezed shut, and he was drowning, body angry with the amount of caffeine in his system, the lack of sleep, and the inundation of someone so familiar who had been gone from him for so long. His mouth did not confer with his brain, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded from his mouth.
"She looks like you."
Her breath caught in her throat, hands freezing, blood cooling to ice in her veins. Sakura's eyes widened, darting up from the smudged ink on the page to his eyes which had snapped open, seemingly in shock at his own words. His face was burning bright red, nearly scarlet against his normally pale skin.
"Sasuke-"
A wet, strangled noise escaped his throat and before she could even try to stop him, he was gone.
.
.
.
Sasuke's feet smacked painfully off the paved street somewhere in the neighborhood adjacent to his apartment complex. The naked branches of the gently swaying trees were a blur of brown and budding green. The colors swirled into a vortex that propelled him down the road as he futilely tried to escape his fate.
She looks like you.
He didn't know why the words leaked past his lips, he couldn't quite understand why his brain even fired those receptors.
He was supposed to say Ino. Traditionally beautiful Ino. Ino with her platinum hair and baby blue eyes. Ino who twisted his tongue into knots and tied his esophagus around his stomach. Ino who had run marathons with him, who pushed him to quit all his unhealthy vices, who kept up with his late-night ramblings about integrals and 3D modeling, who had ambitions of running a communications conglomerate, who never forgot to ask about Itachi's health and compliment his father's business practices.
He was supposed to say Ino. With her white-blonde hair, almond ocean eyes, and red, red lips. Painful and perfect Ino.
But Sasuke had been staring into green eyes that reminded him of cold winter nights, tender touches under soft blankets, tearstained cheeks, comic-book radiation, and unfinished kisses. He was near her and suddenly it was like the last five years of distance had never happened. He was in her orbit, and it felt like home and without his discretion, the words tumbled over themselves and desperately flung themselves from the confines of his throat.
She looks like you.
Sakura with a barely hidden black eye, bruises healing obviously slowly across her body, ribs poking painfully through her shirt, collar bone like razors, and legs twig thin. Sakura who now wore smoke like a second skin with chapped lips and guarded eyes. And it was true.
Sasuke closed his eyes, imagining. And it was her.
Maybe it had always been her.
She looks like you.
The realization made his stomach drop to the pavement passing under his beat-up sneakers. He was nauseous, chest throbbing with every breath ripping from his lungs. He thought of his friend Suigetsu, the way Sakura's knuckles had looked tucked against Suigetsu's hand. Sasuke thought about the fact the two of them had been dating for over a year, and jealousy bubbled in his gut, fists clenching in shame and irritation.
His legs were on fire. A stitch stretched dangerously across his abdomen, but he refused to stop. Because stopping meant defeat, stopping meant he had to look himself in the mirror and accept these feelings he had buried for so long. He didn't want to look at them. He wanted to run until he disappeared off this plane of existence. Until the only that remained of him was an off-putting dream in the mind of a beautiful woman. Sasuke's teeth ground together.
Vaguely, somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard the crunching of gravel under tires, but he ignored it, ignored everything that wasn't the gasping – almost gagging – breath lacerating through his throat and lungs. Because this was what he was taught, and how he was raised.
Sasuke had been on the track team long before he ever met Sakura, years and years before he realized pink could be so pretty or that coffee shared with someone was infinitely better than coffee alone. He was running, always running.
It was bred in by parents who had been track stars. Both his mother and father were famous in their individual universities. They met on the blacktop and their love was singularly derived from their passion for the sport. This drive was passed down, through genes or antics one couldn't be sure, to both Sasuke and his older brother Itachi.
The family's most prized possessions were the golden trophies adorning the mantle. There was a plethora of them, from patriarch and matriarch, a bundle dedicated to Itachi, his name engraved in flowing, curling letters. Itachi won races easier than he breathed. Breezing through competitions without a thought or anxiety. Itachi was the personification of elegance in motion. But now on the other side of college, settling down with a dainty wife and a career, any aspirations for the future of the Uchiha runners was firmly placed on Sasuke's shoulders.
Suffocating in the cocoon of thoughts, Sasuke didn't notice the burnt orange Dodge Charger creeping along behind him. Within moments, the horn sounded, and Sasuke jumped out of his skin, tripping over his own feet and crashing hard into the ground.
Blood spurted to the surface of his knees and elbows. Once on the ground, Sasuke curled into a tight ball, the gravel biting painfully into his sides as the coffee acid in his stomach bubbled dangerously into his throat. He swallowed it down in time to notice his best friend Naruto exiting the Charger that had just given him a heart attack.
"What the actual fuck?" Sasuke gasped, choking on the air clawing through his throat. "Why the hell would you do that?" His eyes squeezed shut as his heart knocked around his chest.
Naruto's mouth was pulled up in an easy half grin; he took a few long steps closer and kneeled down by his best friend. Shrugging he spoke. "I don't know, why not? It's funny catching the ever-aloof Sasuke Uchiha off guard." He waited a moment as Sasuke coughed and wiped at the blood leaking out of his knees.
"Because you hurt people when you scare them, dick head," Sasuke pushed himself up from the pavement and immediately staggered. Naruto's hand reached out to steady him, but Sasuke batted it away. "I'm fine man, what do you want?"
"I called you at ten because you said we'd go running today, but you didn't answer. It's like noon now, I got concerned."
Sasuke's skin felt cold, and he blotted at the sweat on his forehead with the hem of his already drenched shirt. Blood leaked into the fabric from his palms, and Sasuke swore under his breath. "Well, sorry, I guess we'll go running another day." He turned away from Naruto and barely got a step away before the other man's hand darted out and grabbed his shoulder.
"Dude, just wait a fucking minute, shit. What are you running from? Zombies, cheetahs? Did you commit a crime? You don't have a second to explain where the hell you've been?"
"What do I have to explain to you? Where I've been? You want to know where I've been Naruto?" Sasuke spit out a glob of espresso flavored saliva and chuckled, it came out high pitched and a bit delirious. "I met with Sakura today at Roasted, we had coffee, we chatted." Black starless eyes were narrowed into slits, and he felt light headed. Naruto watched him evenly, and for some reason the consistency of Naruto's life pissed Sasuke off.
"She asked for help with some stupid project for school, and because I'm a fucking idiot and even though she was being a bitch, I said yes. She asked me like a thousand questions and by the end I told her that when I imagine having a relationship with someone, I saw her." Naruto's brows shot high in confusion as he sucked air through his teeth. Sasuke took a step back. "After two fucking hours of being a straight bitch to me I still come off as the asshole. After five fucking years Naruto. Five fucking years and an Ino away, I'm still the asshole."
Naruto opened his mouth to clarify, to ask questions, something, but Sasuke was gagging up five espressos in the front of someone's yard.
Author's note:
Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a review telling me what you think, do you like the set up, the characterization, the details? Let me know, I would absolutely love to hear from you!