a/n I really don't know where this came from...but I enjoy it. I didn't feel like writing crack, and I needed a break from my serious fic "Song of Aether..."
And so I present to you my very first angst fic. Read it and weep! TT-TT
He was an idiot.
He, Uchiha Sasuke, was the world's biggest idiot. Dead last. Fucking down right stupid.
The autumn light refracted softly through Konoha's quiet, cold streets; Sasuke had been drinking a coffee by an alleyway (he was not welcome to sit in the cafe), when she walked by.
They hadn't seen Sasuke of course; damn it, Sasuke wasn't an ex-S-classed-rogue-bad-ass-ninja for nothing. He had masked his chakra signature and hid in the lengthening shadows of the alley and watched them walk by.
He watched as she took his hand in hers; the sun glinted softly off of her pink hair, making it shine with jewel tones, shades of carmine and coral. It contrasted well with Naruto's orange jacket, which in the fading light looked more like copper, or even tangerine brushed with gold. Sasuke mused that they looked perfect together, just like the autumn leaves that swirled around their feet and flew up on the wind, crimson, orange and cadmium.
While Sasuke was watching, bathed in shadows, his coffee long since forgotten and cold; the styrofoam cup had ten, crescent shaped dents from each of Sasuke's angry fingers. That's when she reached up to kiss the blond haired boy on the cheek, and that's when Sasuke's cup basically imploded from the force of his grip: coffee splattered everywhere, as if it were blood squelching from a crushed heart. I think...I think I'm going to throw up a little bit in my mouth... And caustically musing this and other similar, acrid thoughts, he turned away and walked towards his apartment.
He wished he could run away from the village again and sighed; unfortunately, he had one too many tracking seals placed upon his person. He thought, when he had returned... After killing Itachi and Orochimaru... That things would have been different.
Well, to be fair, things had gone all right in the beginning; he had even resigned himself to dating Sakura...and life had been...ok. Not fabulous, not some fucking fairy tale, no happily-ever-after...but just plain old ok. Sasuke had been fine with that.
But then he'd gone and done it. He hadn't meant to, of course, who means to do something like that, really? Something about the sake, and the color of the bar, and the lighting, the way it hit Sakura's face—
It disgusted him. It repulsed him on a deep and primal level.
He didn't even remember what he had said to her. He had been too drunk, really, to remember. But he had said something to the effect of his alienation, the undertones of his sorrow that wouldn't fucking go away damn it, and the light, how it hurt his sensitive Uchiha eyes, the way it made the room spin, and then there in the middle of everything was her damn pink hair refracting the light like too bright magenta juxtaposed with chartreuse and his brother was dead and so was Sasuke, he was dead inside and GOD DAMN IT COULD NO ONE HEAR HIM SCREAMING AND IT WAS ALL HER FAULT!
The objective part of him, at that point buried deep inside in his cranium, knew that this was simply not true...it wasn't her fault...she had been the one to stand by him, to make everything OK, alright, just fine, bearable. Until suddenly it wasn't, for reasons Sasuke himself couldn't ascertain...
She had always taken his abuse, his moods, had always met his burning with a smile. She was like an easy chair; something comfortable to sit on after a long, hard day. Something you didn't think about as having its own desires. Something that would always be there, waiting for you, in the same corner of the living room, by the television and the end table...
The sky grew dark and the crepuscular colors of twilight, electric blue and dark violet, colored everything a sombre hue. The reds, yellows, cadmium oranges, they mixed with the blue light and became brown. Dull. Cold.
Just like Sasuke.
He opened the door to his apartment and there was no one and no thing to see.