BORUSARA - Oneshots xx

No Regrets

Sarada knew how to pace herself whenever she drank alcohol. She never wanted to make a fool of herself in front of others, which is why she made sure she would never do so under the influence. No one, not even Boruto, could convince her to keep on drinking. No means no. Anyone who thought otherwise had a death wish.

Jealousy was a feeling she was never acquainted with. Often times, she would hear people would envy her, but she had never envied anyone else. Her mother always taught her to be thankful with what she had, and to never compare herself with others. Her father taught her to keep her eyes trained on her goal, and to never look left or right.

She held those two to her heart, and never wavered. But when she saw a certain blond haired idiot wrap his arms around another girl, who wasn't her, those two virtues be damned.

Without hesitation, she ran into the kitchen and took the bottle of red wine that no one wanted. Who would drink red wine at a college party, anyway? That's what beer and Vodka was for. But not Sarada. If she was going to get drunk, she would at least go down with quality alcohol.

She popped the cork off and took a swig. Who needed a glass? Those were so yesterday. She looked over at the living room, and found Boruto sitting on the floor, with the girl sitting in between his legs, and leaned back on his chest. He held the PlayStation controler in front of her, and rested his chin on her shoulder as he played.

That kind of PDA was disgusting.

Sarada took a long swig and slammed the bottle down on the counter. Her eyes stung. She turned away, desperately trying to keep her tears at bay. She would never admit she loved him. She couldn't love him. He was stupid, reckless, and a shameless flirt. It didn't matter that they were childhood friends, that she had always adored his blue, blue eyes, and the way his smile always melted her worries away.

No. She simply couldn't.

Sarada ran upstairs and stayed out in the small balcony. She sat down on the floor, with nothing but a bottle of red wine for company.

"Looks like it's just you and me," she muttered.

Bottoms up.

"Have you guys seen Sarada?" Boruto asked Shikadai and Inojin.

"Nope," Inojin responded.

"I think I saw her go upstairs to one of the rooms," Shikadai drawled. He was surprised when Boruto grabbed on to his lapels and pulled him close.

"Was she with anybody?"

"Calm the fuck down." Shikadai pried his hands off of him and glared. "I didn't see her with anybody."

Boruto let go with a grunt and pointed at Inojin. "Stay away from my sister, you sisterfucker." To which, Inojin rolled his eyes. Boruto made his way up the stairs.

His heart pounded in his chest. He should have never let Sarada out of his sight. If he opened one of these doors and found a guy with her–he gritted his teeth. No way. Sarada would never. But if she did–he knew it would be his fault. Boruto never had the courage to confess to her, as he always felt like she was far too good for him. She was perfect. He had tried so hard to get over her, dating girl, after girl, after girl, only to realize that no one would ever compare to her. No one ever came close.

There were only three rooms, and Boruto listened before he dared to open a door. He didn't want to walk into anybody. Lucky him, on the first try, it was fairly quiet, but he could hear soft mumbling. Gingerly, he opened the door. The bed was well made, and empty. The glass door to the balcony was half open. He smirked. He knew he would find her there.