Author: IrredeemableSoul PM
I really would have never guessed in a million years, that spilling coffee on him would lead to this. [SasukeSakura]Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Humor - Sasuke U. & Sakura H. - Chapters: 9 - Words: 19,910 - Reviews: 644 - Favs: 474 - Follows: 515 - Updated: 02-01-08 - Published: 07-25-07 - id: 3680195
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
This is my first Naruto story! YAYY! I AM SOO EXCITED!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Naruto characters...WAAH.
I glanced at the clock for what must have been the fifth time in two minutes, 6:43. I sighed, I'm not usually this irritable. How did I get roped into working overtime anyways? From behind the counter, I vaguely watched the customers in the café, hoping for some entertainment. But no, they were as interesting as drying paint. I was puffing strands of pink hair out of my face when my friend walked in.
"Ino?" she never visited me much at work.
"Sakura!" Ino half-ran over to the counter, and sat on one of the tall chairs, "I have news..."
Of course she does, she was the typical social butterfly, and her family was rich...super rich.
"So, what's up?" I asked, half curious.
"Guess who just asked me out?" she was practically squealing at this point.
"I said guess!"
"I don't know...seriously, you must have dated at least half the guys in this city." I joked. But she probably had, considering the fact that her romantic history dates back to when we were three.
"Okay, fine. You know Satoshi? From the— Oooh, mama!"
Oh boy...Ino never got distracted while talking about a man unless–
"Who's that gorgeous hunk of meat?"
Unless she saw a hotter one.
I looked over at the new customer. Apparently, Ino wasn't the only one who noticed him– practically all the females in the room were staring.
The young man had a head of beautiful raven-black hair, some of it at the back defiantly spiked up. His eyes were hidden by a pair of aviator sunglasses — vain of him, really, he was inside. A sharp nose and perfect, frowning lips sat on his flawless, lightly sun-kissed face. His cheekbones were high, and his jawlines chiselled. He looked like he just walked out of every woman's fantasy. Including mine.
"Ooh, and look at that hot body!" my blond friend suddenly exclaimed, as quietly as she could.
"Oh geez." I muttered.
"You know it's true," she taunted, and then, "hottie's got taste, too! Just look at those clothes...Definitely not knock-offs."
I couldn't help but look over again, and finally noticed what he was wearing— I was too busy looking at his face before. He wore a white shirt with thick black stripes on it, and on top, a beige jacket draped over his broad shoulders. Long legs strode with impossible grace under a pair of baggy, black jeans.
He sat down at a table, and began typing away at the black Macbook that was previously tucked under his arms.
"Get over there!" Ino commanded.
"Um, let's see, because you work here?"
"Oh. Right." I was bitterly reminded that the others had the night off.
Suddenly feeling unreasonably nervous, I walked over to his table.
"Um..." hearing my voice, he looked up, his eyes somehow managed to be piercing behind those sunglasses.
"W-what would you like?" I asked, feeling ridiculous that I should be stuttering like a love-struck schoolgirl.
"Black coffee." he simply said, his voice irresistible and mysterious as everything else about him.
He just shook his head, and went back to typing.
Back at the counter, Ino was waiting to hear the juicy details.
"So? Was he nice? Did you flirt?"
"No." I said while pouring his coffee.
"What do you mean, no?"
"He's sort of..." I looked for the right word, "Distant. And you know I can't flirt. Remember that time?"
"Oh yeah..." then she laughed; apparently, my inability to flirt was that funny.
To avoid anymore interrogation, I took the coffee to where he sat, while Ino was lost in happy memories of my humiliation. But just as I arrived at his table, my impossible clumsiness kicked in. It had happened so fast; I slipped on something (water?), fell forward, and spilt the hot, steaming coffee. On him. As I straightened up to look at the damage I'd done, I wanted the cherry-wood floor to open up and swallow me whole.
"Ah! I'm so sorry! Oh God...I didn't mean to...I'm sorry, I really am..." I was on the brink of tears.
A big, black stain was settling in on the front of his shirt, and a part of his jacket. His jaw was clenched, and I could feel his glare boring into me behind those shades. I waited for the yelling and half-expected a punch, but it never came. Without a word, he slammed his Macbook shut, tucked it under his arms, and walked out.
Not two minutes later, a glossy, black Cadillac pulled out of the parking lot and tore down the street.
"Well," Ino said behind me, "I think you kinda blew that one."
"No kidding." I muttered, bitter and embarrassed, as the whole café watched.
The dimly lit apartment was a welcoming escape from today's events. I really wanted to cry, what if the stain never came off? What if he got burned by the coffee? What if he sued me? Oh no, I didn't have that much money...
This had to be the worst day ever, and I had to be the biggest klutz in history. Who else could spill coffee on another person by accident? Pathetic, really.
And with the accompaniment of these cheerful thoughts, I fell asleep.
I was completely surprised when he came back the very next day. Of course, there was no danger of me spilling coffee— other waitresses were here today, and they were more than eager to serve him. I was strangely relieved when I saw that he didn't pay any attention to their crazy, over-the-top flirtations, and was instead engrossed in a book.
It continued like that for weeks. He'd come in and read his book while drinking black coffee. It was hard trying not to look at him, my eyes always seemed wander over to his table, he was just so intriguing. And sometimes, he'd throw a glance my way, his eyes would study me for a fraction of a second behind those shades before looking away. I never understood those looks. Maybe he just thought I was weird; having been born with pink hair, green eyes, and a big forehead, I did get teased a lot.
I looked forward to work now, to seeing him. Even though we never interacted, it always made my day when he showed up. But why? I wondered.
It wasn't until a month and a half later that I actually got to talk to him again.
I was the only waitress on duty. The café was empty besides a couple in the corner, cuddling like there's no tomorrow. They looked to be in their early twenties. I sighed as I watched them, I must be the only single 22-year-old on the planet. Or even better, the universe.
It was late, and I thought that maybe he wouldn't be here today. I didn't know if he showed everyday, but when I work, he's always here. Of course, it was stupid and vain to presume that he came here for me— the guy probably hated me for ruining his shirt and possibly burning a hole into his chest.
I was ready to sulk when he walked in, looking more like a Greek god than anything else. He sat down at his usual table, and started reading. It was a new book, Angels & Demons. As I walked over, I felt ridiculous— I was about to talk to the person I spilt coffee on.
He just looked at me again, with an unreadable expression.
"What...what would you like today?" I stumbled again. Damn, whats wrong with me?
"The usual." he said before turning back to his book.
"Right." I knew it was black coffee, so I turned to leave.
"Oh, and..." he began again.
"Yes?" I turned around to face him. Did he want a muffin?
"Try not spilling anything this time." Sarcasm dripped from every word as amusement lightly tugged at one corner of his mouth. My heart went wild then, seeing his smirk.
"Right." I muttered again, red with embarrassment, and some other unknown emotion.
Fortunately, the black coffee was, in fact, not spilled when I delivered it to him.
"See? I didn't spill it." I said, feeling childishly triumphant for the moment.
If that was a laugh, it had to be the shortest, emptiest, most humourless laugh ever.
When it was closing time, the couple had already left. But he was still there, looking thoroughly absorbed by the book. I wasn't even sure I should bother him, but decided to take the chance. I couldn't lock him in here for the night, after all.
"Um...we have to close now...so..."
Without a word, he shut his book and stood, towering over me. He took a ten-dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to me.
I didn't take it, "Coffee's on the house, since I...you know."
"Hn." he said nonchalantly and stalked out.
After shutting off the lights, I locked the door and walked onto the street. It was a pleasantly cool night. Breezes were playing havoc with my hair, but I didn't mind. I was so distracted by the nice weather, that, while crossing the road, I made the most stupid mistake: I forgot to look both ways first.
So, there I was, in the middle of the street, paralysed with fear as I stared at the headlights of a truck that was about to crush me. But impact didn't come from the direction I expected it to, as something knocked me off the road. I landed back on the sidewalk, with that something on top. It swiftly got off me, and stood. Slowly, I got up too, unharmed, except for a headache where my skull made contact with the hard ground.
But when I looked up, my heart stopped, and picked up in double time. It wasn't an it that saved me! It was a him! And noo, it couldn't be just any him, it was the him! As in, the him I spilt coffee on! Then, my heart skipped another several beats as I realized something— his sunglasses were gone.
Under the streetlight, I examined them in awe— stupid, I know, gawking like a child. But his eyes...they were the most amazing thing I've ever seen. They were pure black, so dark I couldn't tell where his iris began. Staring into them was like looking up at the winter sky, I was completely entranced.
"Hey," an indifferent voice startled me, "you alright?"
"Umm...I think so," I tore my eyes away from his face, cheeks turning pink, "thanks, you just saved my life."
"Hn." he shrugged, and walked away. I watched him and wondered where his car was.
I was just about to leave too, when something on the ground caught my eye. I bent down to pick up the object, it was a strangely familiar necklace. A red-and-white circular fan— symbol for the Uchiha family— dangled off of a silver chain. The red part of the miniature fan was incrusted with rubies, while the white part sparkled with studded diamonds. I turned the intricate fan around, and found engravings:
So, this must belong to a Sasuke Uchiha. But what was it doing here, right in front of the café? An Uchiha wouldn't come here.
Then, it struck me as horror settled in— I realized where I'd seen the necklace. I saw it on him tonight, but barely noticed or recognised it because of his stupid, distracting, perfectly gorgeous face. But that means I...I SPILT COFFE ON (and got saved by, but mostly spilt coffe on) AN UCHIHA! GAHH! I screamed silently all the way home.
No. Way. This must be a bad dream.
To be continued...
Hope you liked it:)
Please give me feedbacks on this chapter! I really want to know if you like it and if I should continue...
And please tell me if anyone was OOC, or if you want any other couples in the story.
Well, thats it for now, see ya next time!