Sasuke's Point of View
She had barely spoken to me twice since our argument when she popped into my office that cold December morning.
Unfortunately for both of us, that was also the time around which Karin decided she would try, yet again, for the umpteenth time, to seduce me. I was so tired, so exasperated, and she had become so predictable in all of her attempts, that I barely even bothered to fight her off—which must have been the reason why she was right on my lap the moment Sakura opened the door to my office, strolling inside in all her high-heeled glory, head up, shoulders back, and a look in her eyes that changed from cool indifference with a spark of mischief to pure… amusement.
It had obviously been a completely unplanned situation—after all, nothing would ever be important enough for me to agree to deal with Karin, of all the people, in order to achieve it. But, on the other hand... I couldn't deny that, the moment I saw her walk in, I grew expectations. A tantrum, perhaps, as subtle as it might have been, or at the very least a mild glare.
What I got instead was a raised eyebrow.
"Have I come at a bad time?" she spoke, her voice dripping sarcasm, as she came to a stop in front of my desk, crossing her arms over her chest, leaning most of her weight on her right leg.
"Yes, you have—" Karin immediately began, causing me to groan and roll my eyes.
I drowned out the rest of her speech, much more preoccupied with gazing at the woman standing across from me.
It felt strange, living under the same roof and hardly ever seeing her, and it was easy for me to blame that for the fact that I immediately started to, fundamentally, check her out.
She had her hair in natural, loose curls that fell over her shoulders and into her eyes, her cheeks and lips were tainted red with the cold outside, and I wondered how in the world it was even possible for someone to look as good as she did dressed in a shapeless sweater and an old pair of jeans.
Glaring, unsure of whom I was more annoyed with, her or myself, I finally pushed Karin away (lest she should get any wrong ideas), ignoring her surprised squeak followed by a pitiful whine.
"Well, then, make up your minds, lovers, I—"
"Shut up, Sakura!" I commanded, annoyed, before sending the redhead off for the millionth time that day.
It shocked the hell out of me when she actually complied, but I had never been so happy to hear my door slam closed.
"My, my," Sakura spoke up before I could, a smirk on her face, "These fan-girls never do cease to follow you around, no matter where you are."
Outwardly, I simply raised an eyebrow. Inwardly, my blood heated up, and I realized, with no small amount of annoyance, that I was bothered. Bothered by the fact that she didn't yell, didn't scream, didn't react in the most subtle way to show that she cared, at least the slightest bit, about what would have happened to us, had Karin and I truly had something. About what I would or would not do with another woman. As though our relationship mattered for absolutely nothing other than sexual gratification and the release of tension.
It shouldn't have been a surprise, it definitely shouldn't. But it was.
Maybe I was right in my assumptions, maybe she was pretending and I was not. Neither outcome would matter, though, because the bottom line was, I shouldn't care. I had a problem with continually seeing her as the immature, thirteen-year-old girl that had been there for me in everything. She was far from that now. She was a woman—grown, independent, and self-assured. A woman whose world and priorities extended far beyond me.
And, I told myself again and again, it was high time I came to terms with that.
As it was, though, I couldn't resist a small gibe. "You would have hunted them all down when we were young."
"When we were young," she agreed and, as usual, managed to flip the tables completely in her favor. "But not anymore. You may get jealous, but…" Smiling mischievously, she shrugged. "You could never give me a reason for that."
Leaning back in my seat, I raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
"Mhmm," she said, sauntering around my desk to reach my side. I leaned back in my seat, half apprehensive, half excited to see she had in plan. "You want to know why?" Placing one hand on my desk, the other on the arm of my leather seat, she bent down so she was at eye-level with me, a grin pulling at the corners of her lips—lips that were so very close now.
I had to swallow before answering. "Why?"
"Because I know that, no matter how many women you kiss, fuck, or are with…" she spoke, running a finger along the collar of my shirt. "…I will always be the one you'll come running back to."
Fuck if her confidence wasn't making me dizzy.
"And what makes you say that?" I hated the way my voice sounded, but I didn't regret I'd asked the question.
She shrugged—and somehow, made even that look sexy. "It's simply the… effect I have over men."
"And what effect is that, exactly?" I pressed, sitting up straighter, closing the distance between us even more. My breath was now fanning upon her lips, and I could see every darker speck of green in her eyes. I could also see, much better than before, the mischief in them.
Her lips curled even further up while her hand slowly trailed a path down my chest, over my abs, and I hissed when she cupped me through my pants, partially climbing into my lap. "An effect that disappears, sometimes. But that appears right back the second men catch sight of me again."
Growling, I grabbed her hips and pushed her to her feet, more than ready to stand up and slam her over the desk to have my way with her, because goddamn it if I hadn't missed that, but just as I was preparing to do that… the door opened—and in stepped, in a very loud and unnecessarily boisterous manner, the least person I wanted to see that day and for the rest of my life.
Uzumaki Naruto. The bane of my existence.
And, I concluded as I heard Sakura squeal and subsequently saw her run straight into his arms, all in the time span of one second, the reason for my cock-blocking.
With yet another groan, a disappointed one this time, I settled back down in my seat and slammed my head down on my desk in despair. Of course, lost in their deafening reunion, neither of my stupid ex-teammates noticed that.
I had known Naruto would make an appearance, having received a letter from him a couple of weeks prior (a letter so full of grammatical mistakes I had almost needed a translator to decode it, but alas), stating that he wanted to visit for Christmas. I had actively dissuaded him from it, but I should have known better than to believe it could have actually worked.
Fuck him and his terrible, terrible timing, though. Fuck. Him.
A week and a half since I was last face to face to Sakura, and he decided to show up in the exact moment when I was going to do the one thing I was sure we both loved.
If that didn't take talent, I didn't know what would.
A/N: Bear with me for a bit, Sakura's point of view is coming soon, along with some much-needed explanations from her part. I'll try to update in a couple of days, so that I don't keep you waiting for too long again.