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Fortune Cookies

Ichiraku's Ramen is around the corner from where I live, in the worn down streets of Konoha City. It's only 12 dollars for an extra large bowl of Miso on Fridays. And Every friday, I walk down to the small worn down restaurant and tuck myself in my usual spot, the booth furthest from the door. Every friday I have the same waiter, and he's... he's tall, at least 6'2", with dark raven hair that refuses to ever lie flat. Complemented by dark lightning filled eyes and pale creamy alabaster skin. He looks to be about a one year older than my 21 years, and his plastic pin-on name tag sits askew on a white linen button down shirt with light ripped jeans. To top it all off, he has two small black gages in each ear, and a black hematite ring on his right hand. He's utterly gorgeous and for some reason he looks so out of place among the beaten up furniture, the walls with a much needed paint job and the cheap fluorescent lighting, like a diamond ring in the fifty cents bucket at Salvation Army downtown. His name tag reads, "Sasuke Uchiha," in white letters on the black surface. It's almost ominous how the letters on his name tag reflect him, a small glimpse of silvery moonlight in a shadowed room.
    Today when I walk in, the bells on the door handle jingling to announce my entrance. He's sitting on his stool behind the counter like always, running a hand through his dark hair. I walk in and wave, smile in greeting then sit down in my usual place. He's looking like a greek god gone wrong as he smiles at me and stretches his arms before standing up and walking over to me.
"Hey Naruto. You want the usual?" He asks sending me a small smile as he leans on the beaten up red and white Coca Cola booth.
"Yes please," I murmur, in awe of what he does to me. He walks back to the counter and hands me my complimentary fortune cookie.
"Uh, I haven't even paid yet. Isn't this a little premature?" I ask in surprise, raising a singular eyebrow in question. But, despite my words, I'm already cracking the cookie open.
He chuckles at my reaction, "Just read the damn fortune," he smiles at me, crossing his arms to sit across from me in the booth. A smirk gracing his god like features, I feel my cheeks get hot, and I turn back to the little white slip of paper in my sun-tanned hands.
In perfectly written cursive are the words,
"Naruto, would you like to go on a date with me?"
I turn and look at Sasuke, he's leaning with his chin in the palm of his hand, and I look at him with the most shocked expression, and he raises his eyebrows waiting for an answer. He's leaning across the table now, his face coming closer. And he seems to sense my speechless state and just as he's about to connect our lips, I'm only able to croak out two impossible words as his stormy eyes press mine,
"Fuck yes"