Unspoken (Sasori x Reader)

That Night

"So?"

"So, what?"

"She's pretty great, yeah?"

"Hm."

"Don't be like that, my man. She's head over heels for you."

"Not very bright of her."

Deidara rolled his eyes, hands deep in a bucket of clay. Sasori sat across from him, furiously doodling on a sketch pad. "(Y/N) is really cool. I get that you don't really trust the people here yet, but she's always been there for me. If you let her in she'd take care of you, too."

"I don't need nor want to be taken care of. I'm not a child, unlike you." He grumbled, his pencil breaking through the paper. Sasori sighed and simply tried to work around it. He felt something moist smack his cheek, and with disgust he wiped it from his face before shooting Deidara a glare.

The culprit of the slung clay only grinned before returning to what he was doing. "Listen, all I'm saying is to give her a chance. You two are very similar, yeah? She's very studious and a total virtuoso. Artsy, like us." He pulled a clump out and then sat down to pick it apart into smaller balls. "Her parents are assholes, though. To be fair, it's mostly her mom. Hm..." Deidara's fingers worked the clay in his hands until it resembled the shape of a moth. Then, he used his nails to carve in details as he spoke. "She's usually busy with work and school. Afraid you're gonna be shot down, my man?"

Sasori met his gaze, a deep frown on his face. He shook his head before returning to his sketch, various bodies on different parts of the page. Deidara only smirked. "Well, if you aren't going to do that we can always go see that new horror movie tonight. What was it called again?"

"The Unborn," Sasori grumbled, but it seemed to pique his interest if only slightly. "If it'll get you off my case, then fine."

"Oh my god," you groaned, going over your planner for the week. "I forgot about that stupid paper." You sighed, taking a sip of your green tea. Your desk was immaculate with small succulents dotting around the wooden surface. Your textbooks sat uniform to your left, and your pencils were kept neatly in a green and beige glazed ceramic holder. On the slightly raised shelf of the desk sat a framed picture of you and Deidara at the beach, and another with you, Kankuro and his siblings from one of your piano recitals. You looked over everything before throwing your head back and sighing. This was going to be a long day, but at least you didn't have to attend that class in particular until the end of the week.

You dove in before you could procrastinate, cross-referencing between your textbook and the internet the pros and cons of electric guitars versus acoustic. You could have picked a different instrument to write the essay on, but you were tired of writing about pianos. Guitar had been the second instrument you picked up after the piano as an eight-year old. After that, you picked up the violin. You were the most proficient with your piano, but still preferred the sounds of a violin the most. However, to you, guitars were the easiest thing to write about and compare.

"(Y/N)!" Called your mother from downstairs. "You have a visitor! It's that handsome boy again!"

Ugh, you wished she'd stop doing that. Already knowing who it was you heaved a sigh as you stood. You didn't even bother to check your appearance before you headed downstairs. As you expected, a smiling Hiroto awaited you in the living room. The smile faltered though and turned to concern.

"You feeling okay?" He asked, eyebrow quirked. You looked down at yourself clad in a baggy sweatshirt and equally as baggy flannel pajama pants. Your hair was a mess, restrained by a headband atop your head. You glanced over to the grandfather clock that sat to the side of the fireplace: 3:17 PM. Your parents sat across from Hiroto on the other leather sofa, all smiles. You internally gagged. You couldn't stand how obsessed they were with a man you considered to be only a friend. Your mother wasn't having it, though. Judging by the look on her face she wasn't too impressed with your lazy appearance either. Your father busied himself with work on his laptop, unbothered.