In Love

2

SARADA

The room is quiet again, but my mind isn't.

I'm lying there, staring at the soft light creeping in from the edges of the curtains, aware of every inch between us on this bed.

It's a small space for someone I can't stand. I mean, I shouldn’t be able to stand. Yet the tension between us, it's something I can't explain—irritating, relentless, and something else I can't put into words.

I shift slightly, careful not to disturb him, though he’s already awake. I can feel him behind me, his breathing even, but my senses hyper-focused.

My skin still remembers the warmth of his arm resting on me, and I hate myself for noticing it, for missing it just a little.

This isn’t what I wanted. Not with him.

The last thing I need is to feel something more than irritation around my Boss, Boruto Uzumaki, of all people. But lying here, the weight of his presence is… distracting, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath.

Taking a quiet breath, I turn just enough to peek over my shoulder. He's staring at the ceiling, his eyes distant, as if lost in thought. The softer morning light softens the hard angles of his face, the harshness usually in his expression oddly muted.

Without meaning to, my voice comes out, breaking the silence. “what is occupying you? ”

He blinks, turning his head toward me, and for a moment, he looks… different. Softer, almost vulnerable, as if I’d caught him off guard. Then, just as quickly, his expression shifts, the guarded look settling back in place.

"Just thinking," he says, his voice low, casual, though there’s something about it that doesn’t seem as indifferent as he probably hopes.

I narrow my eyes, studying his face. "You? Lost in thought? That’s new."

He huffs out a laugh, rolling his eyes. “Very funny, Sarada.” He props himself up on his elbow, facing me fully, his gaze steady. "But since you’re so curious, let's say… it's a lot of things. Work, mostly.”

I roll my eyes, even though a part of me wants to ask what else he could possibly be thinking about. But I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Right. Work,” I say, trying to sound as disinterested as possible. “Figures.”

He watches me, his gaze lingering a second too long, and I start to feel the heat creeping up my neck. I turn away, trying to ignore it, but I can still feel his eyes on me, making my skin tingle in a way I’m not used to—and definitely not with him.

I can feel my heart racing, and it infuriates me. I shouldn’t be feeling this way, especially not with him.

He shifts slightly, and I feel the mattress dip a little under his weight. “What about you?” he asks, his voice teasing. “Still mad at me for making you share a bed? I can hear you fuming from here.”

I shoot him a glare, half-hearted and unconvincing. “I’m not mad,” I lie, folding my arms across my chest defensively. “It’s just… annoying.”

“Annoying or kind of nice?” he presses, that stupid smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Nice?” I repeat incredulously, my heart racing even faster. “Don’t push it, Boss. I don’t like sleeping next to someone who thinks they’re hot stuff just because they’re a CEO.”

He raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “So you admit I’m hot stuff?”

“Ugh!” I turn away, cheeks burning. “That’s not what it's supposed to mean!”

“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” he replies, amusement dancing in his eyes. “But you have to admit, it’s a little funny that we’re stuck like this. All the times you complained about working under me, and now we can’t even escape each other for a night.”

“Not funny,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended. “I’d rather sleep on the floor.”

“Yeah? That would be a real win for you, huh?” he chuckles, the sound infectious despite my irritation.

I can’t help but roll my eyes again, the banter sparking an undeniable connection. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Just because you’re the boss.”

He shrugs, feigning indifference. “Someone has to keep things interesting around here. Besides, you’re the one who puts up with me. Can’t blame me for enjoying it.”

I turn to face him again, my frustration boiling over. “This isn’t some game, Boruto! You act like everything’s a joke, but I’m here to do a job—one that you keep complicating.”

He stares at me, and for a moment, the playful banter fades, leaving a serious expression behind. “I know. I get it. But can’t we at least try to make it bearable?”

I huff, contemplating his words. “Bearable?” I repeat, skepticism lacing my tone. “You mean, pretend we don’t want to kill each other?”

“Exactly,” he replies, his voice softening. “For the sake of our jobs. And since we’re stuck here, let’s make the best of it.”

I take a breath, trying to gather my thoughts, but it feels impossible with him so close. “Fine. But it doesn’t mean I’m going to like you any more than I already don’t.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” he replies, a playful glint back in his eyes. “But maybe we can be… civil?”

“Civil?” I echo, incredulity spilling from my lips. “That’s a tall order for us.”

“Maybe it’s time we change the narrative,” he says, and I see a flicker of determination in his gaze. “It doesn’t have to be all hate all the time.”

I feel a spark of something—curiosity, maybe?—and I can’t help but ponder what this change could mean for us. “I guess we could try… for now,” I concede, but the words taste strange on my tongue.

“Great,” he says, grinning widely now. “I’ll take that as a win.”

As I lie back down, the tension shifts from irritation to something more complicated, leaving me wondering just how far we can bend this fragile truce without breaking.