|morning encounters of inevitable love
Author: lucidic PM
“I think that possibly–maybe, I’ve fallen for you.”Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Sakura H. & Sasuke U. - Words: 2,943 - Reviews: 53 - Favs: 149 - Follows: 9 - Published: 01-21-08 - Status: Complete - id: 4024721
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
who Sakura and Sasuke
what a drabble-oneshot, AU
when over a course of 3 months
where the park
why that darn Diamonds are Forever commercial! the song's too sweet to ignore
disclaimer I do not have ownage.
So there's this park.
It's not too terribly big or attractive, and it's certainly out of her way. There are weeds everywhere, and occasionally a bum takes up residence on one of the many benches. The playground that sits on the far end rusts in its forgotten place. Trees surround the petite clearing, sealing it off from the public. And in the center, there stands a small round fountain, still sputtering water as if it believes people will come. It's more like a graveyard, than anything else.
But Sakura is inexplicably drawn to it.
Everyday she comes–in the morning, before classes–and sits on a swing set that so closely resembles her childhood. It's the old-fashioned kind, with the flat wooden seats and metal chains that pinch. It whines underneath her almost nonexistent weight, and sighs when she swings high enough to kiss the sun and touch the clouds.
She takes comfort in the fact that this small patch of paradise is unknown and derelict. It is silent in her little escape–save for the birds and the gossiping trees on a windy day–so she tries to keep it that way. Mostly she sits and holds the partially rusted chains and thinks about life. Sometimes she brings a book, or her homework, or maybe a little sudoku–but never a friend. This place is hers and hers alone.
It is early October, so the weather is still nice, and Sakura is happy. She gets to be the sole witness to nature's beauty, the small things in the world; like the shifts in the colors of the leaves, and life.
In the sandbox to her far left, lives a tabby cat with a belly full of unborn kittens. It waddles from the woods everyday carrying something to aid in her babies' arrival. She sits and eats dead mice in way that makes Sakura wish that cats were vegetarians, and seems to glare at her every time she breathes in her direction. And as the days carry on, Sakura–being the gifted medical student she is–notices that the feline will give birth any week now.
So, she decides to give her a present–a square blanket. She carries it with her to the park, tucked under her arm, before the tabby arrives and covers the sand pit with it. And when it emerges from the foliage of the trees, it freezes feet from the sandbox, then cautiously walks to it. Slowly she steps into, curls up in the ugly flower pattern, and meows approvingly in Sakura's direction. She in return smiles back, because she realizes that there will be no more glares–they are friends.
So there's this boy.
He's very pretty–with raven locks and eyes to match. It seems he has discovered the secret park recently, for Sakura has never seen him around before. He sits on the bench parallel from her swings and never looks in her direction. She knows this because she likes to look at him... a lot. But she has made it a goal to stop, or else he'll think she's a freak, and opts for glance every once in a while.
"Look my way," she wants to say. "I want to see you."
The only reason he is allowed into her private sanctuary is because he's quiet, and does not disturb the delicate peace. On the contrary, he seems to add to it. He comes there to relax and occasionally read–either a thick novel or the newspaper. And appears to Sakura, that he is oddly perceptive too, for he seems to understand what this infinitesimal piece of land means to her.
Sometimes he brings food: cookies and brownies that he never eats, hot chocolate, breakfast sandwiches, coffee, doughnuts, bagels fresh from the bakery–and Sakura is jealous. Because her snacks pale in comparison to his; instant ramen, those handheld soup containers that can be warmed in the microwave, soggy peanut butter and jelly, toast, and fruit rollups.
And as always he comes after her, this time carrying a black backpack, and sits in his usual space way across from her. Quietly, he unzips the largest section and pulls out a heavy-looking textbook, pries it open a marked page, and begins to read. Sakura stares at him curiously because his book looks strangely familiar, but is snapped out of her reverie by his phone.
ring ring ring
He looks up at her in apology and Sakura is a little dazed. Not only because he is so shocking beautiful and this is the first time he has looked at her, but also because she is able to see the apology in his eyes–not in his face–and she knows this for the reason that she can tell he is not the kind of person to where their emotions on their sleeve.
ring ring ring
He picks up.
"What the hell, you bastard! Did you forget–"
His friend is loud, and he closes his eyes in irritation.
"The hell you ar–"
He hangs up.
And she smiles, and holds back a giggle, at his strange civility.
She is crying.
There, at the foot of the woods, rests the tabby cat. Crimson stains its pepper fur and the earth around it, setting a stage for the bloody scene. The cat lies on its side, eyes closed, seemingly sleeping amongst the colorful leaves, but the gaping hole in its stomach says otherwise. Premature kittens are scattered around their mother, curled up and no longer in need of saving. They are red too, still wet, and Sakura wishes that they'd cry or move or something.
The air around her feels cold and harsh.
But it makes her happy that it is not warm, so maggots cannot infest the cadaver of the unfortunate. She brings the blanket from the sandbox and covers the family solemnly. Her knees buckle as she sits on her favored swing, and she cries more.
She doesn't even here him coming.
Her head shoots up and leaky eyes focus in on dark hair and onyx eyes. The boy looks down at her, shoves the warm bread in her hands, and sits to occupy the empty swing next to her. They sit in silence for a while–Sakura nibbles at the baked good, and her companion closes his eyes and waits.
"The cat's dead," she explains suddenly.
"Will you help me bury it?"
So she stands and leads him to scene. He uncovers the departed and decides to lay them to rest in the sandbox, because the ground is already hard with frost. Sakura thanks him for everything and he says nothing as he gathers the deceased.
But she smiles at him anyway.
He barely flinches–and she wonders if he has buried the dead before–as he carries the dead across the decaying park. The blood slowly seeps through the quilt and onto the patch of ground where he places it next to the sandbox, and Sakura cannot look at it. She busies herself with helping to dig the grave instead, and glancing at the beautiful, unnervingly indifferent boy in front of her.
They dig for what seems to be hours–until he pulls back and rests on his haunches, and Sakura realizes that they've reached the bottom of the deepest sandpit she has ever seen. She can't help but look away, as he loads the bundle into the hole and relentlessly kicks dirt over it, until it is covered. Again, she interests herself with something else, and stands to look for an appropriate grave marker.
"I'll be right back," she tells him, but again he does not answer.
She rounds up colorful pieces of broken beer bottles. She knows they're not very appropriate dressings for a grave, but she finds them better than bland pebbles and twigs. There are a lot by the fountain, Sakura notices, and cradles her findings carefully in her palm–but something better catches her bright eyes.
There, in the bottom of the fountain, lays the distorted image of a beautiful necklace. It is silver, lined with white gold, and has a small crystal pendant. Around it, sits loose change and garbage, which makes it seem to glow miraculously.
And Sakura decides that it would be perfect.
The water is numbingly cold–as if it does not want Sakura to take it–but she prevails, and pulls the treasure out, to her own delight. She hurries to dry it and jog back to the site, carrying her success in her loosely enclosed hands. And as she approaches, she sees him waiting–sitting on the wooden part of the sandbox, facing her–his chin resting on his entwined hands.
Like a small child, she grins and shows him her things, and he nods approvingly, and moves out of the way. And as she sets the colorful glass, she is happy because he is looking at her and she can feel it. Sakura stands and critiques her handiwork, and smiles. The glass lies in a wide heart shape, alternating colors of the world, while the necklace centers everything.
Sakura looks up at the boy next her, and thinks of what to do next.
"How about a few moments of silence?" she asks, then finds her question embarrassingly redundant, because he hasn't spoken a word almost the entire time. But he shrugs anyway.
So they stand there, very quiet and very close–only because of the cold, Sakura swears–and stare at the grave. It suddenly dawns on her that she hopes that no unsuspecting children come along, and dig up the burial site, for it would probably scar them for life. She glances to her left, and is about to say something when she is caught off.
ring ring ring
She tries to hide her displeased frown, and he closes his eyes in annoyance. His phone rings again–she can hear it clearly through his pant's pocket–and this time he turns it off.
"I have to go."
Sakura is so dazzled by his smooth voice, she stutters. "O–okay." She watches him leave, and bites her lip in girlish fantasy.
That night, she dreamt of his voice.
So there's an unmentioned change of seating.
And Sakura is caught off guard–very, very off guard.
There, next to her usual spot, sits him. He is earlier than normal, looking as if he always sat there, with a black coffee and a chocolate chip muffin, as he looks–openly stares–at her. She drowns in his eyes momentarily, before she resurfaces and coughs uncomfortably. He looks away also, some color in his cheeks–and Sakura wants to think that he was doing the same as she.
She sits awkwardly on her swing, and slightly winces when it lets of a loud groan. They sit there for what seems to be the most uncomfortable three minutes of Sakura's life, before she chalks up the courage to say to something.
Well, Sakura thinks optimistically, that could've gone worse.
"...well, uh, my name's Sakura..."
She shifts anxiously for a few minutes, afraid that any more noise would only add to the awkward silence–well, until a bird swoops in front of her vision and she starts to fall backwards, that is. And she is thankful, that he has fast reflexes and catches around with around the shoulders, and blushes at their positions. He had her in a dip position, as her one hand loosely clutches the fabric of his coat, pulling him close to her face.
Sakura is not sure if Sasuke realizes that he is getting closer, but does not have the heart to tell him, because she is too busy staring at his sexy sexy lips. She can smell mint toothpaste and coffee on his breath, and she is fifty percent sure that it is that making her lightheaded. The other half being from his ohsoclose proximity.
Then suddenly, she tastes it–all of it. The coffee, his lips, the mint... the everything.
And Sakura can do nothing but kiss him back, just as feverish and excited as her counterpart, until her neck and back ache from their positions and she has to pull back. But she takes pride in the fact that she has left the greedy beast inside him insatiable, as he growls heatedly in response.
That night, she dreamt of his lips.
Sakura pretends today is show-and-tell day.
Except with not a lot of show, and a whole bunch of tell.
She pretends she is fearless, courageous and bold, as she makes her way over to where Sasuke now takes his new seating residence. It is bitingly frigid, the wind nips frosty air at all who dare to brave it, and the grey clouds are so thick that it appears to be twilight, in the early morning. But Sakura could see him through the icy bitterness, with his daily drink, and takes her seat.
Unyielding in her goal, she turns to him and waits. Sasuke turns to her, in what seems to slow-motion, and with one look, she loses all her graces. Instead, she whips her head and look forwards, as she tries her best to play off her blunder smoothly and plays with the fray on her knitted mittens.
It is about a thirty minute later, when Sakura realizes how cold and numb she really is. The sound of her teeth chattering is the only thing she hears, besides the dieing wind, and the heat from Sasuke's hot chocolate happens to be her only vital heat source.
Slowly, but surely, she notices the cease of wind and the dramatic emergence of the sun from the behind the clouds. The warm light floods the small park, and everything shines. The unperturbed white blanket of snow that covers the area, the icicles that hang from the slide and swings, and the frozen fountain–they all sparkle majestically in the radiance.
Sakura thinks the time is ideal.
And when she turns to him, he surprises her, for he was already looking at her. It is completely silent as they stare, enraptured, at each other. They are not sure which one drowns in whose eyes first, but Sakura conscious slips and she spills in her secret in an almost inaudible whisper.
"I think that possibly–maybe, I've fallen for you."
Sasuke says nothing as he stares, but slowly pulls the chain of her swing closer to him until they are lips almost touch. Sakura can swear that her heart is in her throat, and butterflies have taken up residence in her stomach. His scarf tickles her wind-scorned cheeks, as he kisses with such a passion that tells Sakura he had fallen long ago.
So there's this girl.
She is warm, happy, in love, and surprised.
Who knew that the park was the best place to watch the New Years' fireworks?
Sakura sits on Sasuke's lap, as his arm gently binds her to him, and they both look to the clear skies. It is surprisingly pleasant for the middle of the winter, and they are clad in heavy sweatshirts and each other's warmth. Like usual, the park is empty, just the way the like it.
As they wait, Sasuke teases Sakura mercilessly and blows warm puffs of air on the bare nape of her neck, and watches her squirm helplessly. He swings them leisurely back and forth, then a little faster when he becomes impatient. Sakura believes it is fate that the old swing hasn't collapsed under their combined weight–Sasuke says it's common physics.
They begin to prattle between each other, until the light explodes in the air–again, again, and again. It is already the New Years, and Sakura sighs sadly about missing the count down.
So Sasuke grabs her chin, turns her face towards him, and kisses her better. He leans back, smug at her lacks of words, and smirks at her sluggish smile, as her fingers rise and touches her lips in a daze. He watches as her eyes travel to his lips, and her turns smile mischievous. An eyebrow raises in question, before realization dawns on him seconds to late.
In a flash, Sakura attacks his lips with her own heart-stopping kiss, and Sasuke was left immobilized. Unhurried, she pulls back and smirks at Sasuke's expression. Dauntingly, she places her lips against his and speaks teasingly.
"Happy New Year."