🅢🅝🅐🅟🅢🅗🅞🅣🅢~🅢🅐🅢🅤🅝🅐🅡🅤

Man of Iron: Part 2

Sasuke's POV:
The music of the Gala seeps into my bones, every thumping of the overwhelming bass making my head pound like a goddamn funeral drum. I clench my fists, the muscles in my arms clenching and straining against the dark blue fabric of my Suit. Bright red, blue, green, and orange strobe lights flash in the background. The entire hall lit up like a club I might have spent every night at in my early twenties. But now, as and almost thirty-one-year-old I don't really have the patience for the flashing lights and ear shattering music. That is, unless I'm drunk, which I currently am not, due to Naruto being the biggest overprotective square. He said, " If you get drunk, and get kicked out, i'm not picking you up or helping you with your hangover,". Because of this threat, I am currently sober in a room full of hammered people, which is never any fun.
I suddenly feel suffocated in my three piece suit, the wool and cotton blend suddenly to much, so I reach up and undo my tie, stuffing is messily in my pocket. I turn to see my very own Assistant looking far to sexy in a pair of black laminated pants, paired with purple shoes and a silver blazer. A simplistic white shirt tucked into the highwaisted pants, his jacket open, and the top three buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned. And he was worried about me embarrassing myself? What. A. Hypocrite. But I can't really bring myself to care with how he's sitting on a barstool surveying the seen, sipping his martini. I walk towards his pushing past the sweaty sequin-clad women, until he sees me and makes eye contact. He promptly chokes on his drink, and begins coughing as though hoping I didn't notice him. I continue walking towards him, like a cat stalking its prey, I make my way underneath the much brighter lights Illuminating the bar to take a seat next to the Blonde. Rage surges through me at the hypocrisy of his earlier statement, but as the music suddenly changes, and I suddenly can't bring myself to care. Here I am with a hot blonde, and why am I not dancing with him? I instantly recognize the song playing as Ed Sheeran's hit Thinking Out Loud.
"Naruto..." I turn to look at him, slipping off the barstool and lean forward towering over him, "Dance with me,"
I offer him my hand, and he looks at me with an unfathomable expression in his eyes, and then takes it. His tan skin clashing against my glowing ivory skin. I pull him close to me, chest to chest, as we sway and turn, losing ourselves in the pulsing crowd. 
"You weren't supposed to see me here," He whispers,
"Then what were you doing here," I whisper back, leaning in closer purely intoxicated by his blue eyes and his blonde hair a glowing halo in the lights.
"I was keeping an eye on you," he murmurs his eyes flicking from mine to my lips, his own mouth quivering slightly. I move so our noses brush, completely entranced unables to break away. I suddenly come to my senses as his hands apply firm pressure to my chest, pushing me away.
"I'm sorry, I... I can't," He stammers, his eyes wild as he pulls out of my arms and hurries away into the crowd. I do nothing. I simply grab the nearest alcoholic-looking glass of something and down it all. Not heeding what Naruto said earlier, not caring how wasted I get, not caring who I'll bring home tonight knowing I will. They never satisfy me, they never compare to the one I really want. The one I really need.