Unspoken (Sasori x Reader)

Thunderstorms

He hadn't lied. Sasori might have disappeared before you and Deidara awoke, but you found a note under your phone with a number written in red ink. His handwriting was so graceful, and you decided to keep it. Throwing away something so beautiful would just be wrong.

After rehearsal that day you returned home. Your father was shut in his office and your mother wasn't home. You enjoyed it when it was this way because you could actually walk up the grandiose steps without having to tip toe.

"Miss (Y/N)?". Damn.

You paused at the corner you were rounding and turned back to face the soft voice. There stood a dainty older lady with thin, circular glasses and a small collection of books tucked in her arms. Her suit was a soft beige and neatly pressed, and her silver hair was pulled back into a neat bun. Her wizened features were still gorgeous despite her age, and her smile was strong. Her name was Ayaka, and she was the one who raised you. There were a couple of other maids that kept your home prim and proper, but they tended to cycle in and out as the years passed. You didn't necessarily live in a humongous mansion, but you were definitely on the wealthier side of town.

"Ayaka," you smiled. You were kind of irritated to be interrupted in your journey to hide out in your room, but you still loved the woman. Sometimes you wished that she had actually been your mother. "What's up?"

"I wanted to let you know that your mother departed to Amegakure this morning to handle business related to work. However, she will return before the end of the week." You mentally sighed in relief. Good, that meant you wouldn't have to deal with any annoying questions related to Hiroto. "I also took care of your laundry. Would you like me to bring you up some tea?"

"I'd love that," you nodded. "Thanks a bunch, Ayaka." She grinned at you before turning away. You smiled just a bit bigger before you finally returned to your room.

You busied yourself with flipping through pages of your notebook idly, but you couldn't keep your gaze from the note that sat on your desk. You had never dreamed that numbers could be so distracting to you, but you had never felt such an itch before. Outside you could see dark clouds rolling across the sky, and your big windows allowed you to see far out down the street. You wondered how you'd feel seeing that red car stop in your driveway just for you.

You couldn't take it anymore.

You pulled out your phone and looked to the numbers as you typed his information in your phone. You kept looking at the paper as if you hadn't already memorized the numbers by now. You bit your lip as you pulled up his contact, but your thumbs froze over the keyboard. Sasori. What if you were bothering him? What if he was busy? What was even interesting enough to talk about? He was hard to read in person, but he seemed even more intimidating over text. What if you said something stupid?

6:43 PM (Y/N): Hi! This is (Y/N). I would have messaged you sooner, but I was busy with rehearsals. We have a small performance coming up soon.

You smiled after you hit the sent button and waited. And waited. And waited. Your smile faltered as the minutes passed, and by the time you hit fifteen minutes you tossed your phone onto your bed over your shoulder with a sigh. He was probably busy so why did this bother you so much? Maybe he felt like he made a mistake. You pouted, but went over to where your keyboard sat and plopped down. Fine then. If he wanted to be like that then you'd busy yourself with some much needed practice. All of these social activities lately were going to make you rusty if you kept it up. In fact, you decided you would prove your resolve to not be clingy by not even responding to him until tomorr—

Buzz buzz

You practically flew from your seat and flipped onto your bed, scrambling for your phone like a maniac. Butterflies flew in your stomach when his name flashed across your screen.