Irresistible

Deadly Love

Sasuke's P.O.V

"Sasuke is this you?"
Those words, that voice- It, It can't be. My voice cracked when I tried to speak, my hands became clammy, and my body began to shake. I only sat there trying to shape my head around what was happening. I gulped quite loudly causing Naruto to sigh.
"I know you have questions, a shit load of questions more than likely. I just want to say I'm sorry Sasuke-"

I closed my eyes to try and calm myself down, this all was to soon. My heart still ached for the blonde haired dobe but I wanted so badly to hate his guts.
"Where are you-?" Is all I could say, my words trembled through the line.
"I'm about 200 miles west of Konoha."
My mind was a jumble at this point.
"200 miles..?"
"Look, Sasuke I don't have a lot of time here. I need help, I'm in a situation and I need someone to get me out of this city. If you can--"

The line went dead, interrupting Naruto's sentence.
"Naruto...? NARUTO?!"
I threw my phone as the buzzing noise hit my ears.
"God fucking dammit." I muttered collapsing back onto my bed. In an instant my dead heart had sprung awake and was beating against the ribcage that held it. I took deep breaths trying and failing at calming myself down. I stood up, grabbing a duffle bag from my mess of a closet and stuffing whatever popped into my head in the bag. At this moment nothing mattered except the fact that Naruto, the fucking dobe that caught my hardened heart, was stranded and in trouble in a faraway city- alone and afraid.

I wasted no time darting out the door, not even bothering to lock the house up. Someone could steal all the shit I own and it wouldn't phase me, but for some reason this one fucking teenager makes me drop everything in my life just so he can hitch a ride back home to the life he ran away from. But- I wanted answers, I needed them.

The drive was long, quite, and filled with the heavy breaths I had taken from being the nervous wreck I was and am. The sun came up and peaked out of the clouds only for a second before the rain started in. It seemed like the perfect atmosphere for the interaction I was fixing to have. Two males, one hopelessly in love but in denial about that love and the other addicted to the slight sting of a drug just for a little time of not feeling the pain, meeting in the pouring rain in an drug infested city. Perhaps our lips will meet as a bolt of lighting strikes a tree nearby and a loud clap of thunder will shake the ground below us. Maybe we'll fuck against the brick walls of an alleyway. That's the atmosphere im about to walk into. After all this time of wanting this dobe into my life. After coming up with scenario after scenario about how he'd return to me with a dozen roses and apologize for leaving.. I find my true, real scenario is meeting my ex lover in a city infested with drugs and STD's. I guess fantasy and reality really are two different things.

I don't know why I dropped my life to drive 218 miles away from home. I'm not even quite sure how I made it to where I am now- sitting in a corner booth in a diner in a city I can't even fucking say waiting for my druggie ex to come through the door. I had spent the entire 200 mile drive going over what I was going to say. I was going to make a scene, shove him, cuss him, maybe even leave him with a black eye..but- would I really do that too him as he looked at me? Would I look into his bloodshot eyes and see no remaining love? God I hope so...

I knew when that small bell rang, signaling someone had opened the door to then diner, that it was him. My eyes wasted no time in looking up in hopes it truly was him- and there at the door stood the man I had drove all night for. His clothes were ragged, dirty with stains that had been placed their months ago. His face bruised in certain places, his eyes bloodshot as I expected they'd be. My eyes traveled down to his arms- lots, and I mean lots of puncture holes covered his arms. Some formed nasty bruises around them while others were puffy and red, new. Closer to his wrist I saw the lines, the red lines that had been done with something other than a Heroin needle- it looked more like a blade. The cuts were scabbed over, a few still puffy and red. He was a walking disaster, anyone could see that.