Sasuke is handsome with a strong build, stable job and a loving family. What more could Sakura have bargained for in a marriage?
Love.
That's the only thing he can't give her.
Sasuke has his heart for someone while Sakura has confused feelings. Bo...
Sasuke's mother has always been the first one to wake up in the house. Izumi's pregnancy left her the only one who could prepare breakfast for everyone. Once in a while, Itachi could help her out, but he was mostly pulling all-nighters at work and was too exhausted to do anything in the morning. Though, Mikoto never once forced Sakura to do the same, even forcing her to stay out of the kitchen most of the time. People won't believe her if she told them she had such kind in-laws, Sakura muses.
However, she couldn't fall asleep last night, and how could she?—after the strange events that conspired last evening.
And the forehead poke, Sakura reminisces, her ears red.
She must have replayed the scene around a thousand times in her head, and her heart jumped each time. His cold fingers grazing her forehead, his eyes laid on her face as if they could undress her, and his lips—they were so close, so close she could have reached them with hers effortlessly—
She stops herself from imagining further. Sakura had long grown out of teenage and never once had a deviant thought, but the hormones seem to act up late. She finds herself heating up.
"Are you feeling better now?" Mikoto asks, and Sakura tries her best to obscure her face with her bangs. It fills her to the core with shame that she visualizes such an image of Sasuke before his mother. The clang of metal catches her attention and she finds Mikoto with a kettle in her hand. With a smile, she pours some tea into a glass and hands it to Sakura.
"I heard you fainted," she says, and Sakura wonders if she heard something other than concern in her voice. Amusement? She turns to confirm and finds Mikoto trying to fight a smile. Sakura frowns in confusion, trying to think back on their conversation to find anything funny until it hits her.
No way, she thinks. She swivels her head to Mikoto, her eyes wide and ears pink, as Mikoto comes to her and pats her on the back.
No way, right?
Sakura sighs.
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Ino frowns.
It's afternoon, and she has had a busy day after the sudden cold wave that struck the area, and the last thing she wants to see is Sakura in her office hugging a bouquet of roses, eyes closed, giggling by herself and spinning around in her chair.
"What are you doing with the flowers MY boyfriend got for ME?" she asks, and Sakura crashes against the wall.
"My flo—"
"They're safe. Ouch!"
Ino plops down on her table with a sigh, sliding her pen out from over her ear and spinning it in her hands as Sakura drags the chair back—she doesn't get up but propels it forward with her legs.
'She's day-drunk', is what Ino would like to believe but these days, Sakura flips between moods every 10 minutes and it's hard to figure out what unprecedented events have occurred in her life by judging her actions.
