• Disclaimer:
    Kishimoto: Naruto? Who?
    Me: ...The one who your manga's named after? The main character?
    Kishimoto: Oh. ...Isn't that Sasuke?
    ...My point made. XD;
    A/N: Sasuke's POV. AU, set in...some city somewhere. >w<; Not really sure what happened before this exactly; but that's not the point anyway. XD' Enjoy! heart
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    You sit there on the sidewalk, and I try to ignore you--have been trying to ignore you for the past day and a half, but you still won't move from that stupid spot perched and waiting like a dog;
    well, you did move once across the street to the hot dog vendor and came back, splattered with condiments and yelping as you tried to fend off crows from your fries (not that I was watching);
    but other than that, you've remained still as a rock. Just waiting for me, staring into the concrete with that burning still so determinedly set there in your eyes even after a day and a half of waiting,
    where you still wait; fiddling with your hands, but planted firmly, stubbornly, refusing to move until I come out of my room and talk.

    I shut the blinds, shaking without knowing why; turn back to my bed and almost trip on the end of my nightgown which I've been wearing for the past day, in my bed where I've been lying under white coverlets, tossing and turning occasionally, peeking through the tiny crack between the shade and the windowsill...just to see what time it is, never mind that you're there...not needing you. I don't need you. I don't need him.

    That's all gone away now.

    I swallow back a sudden rise of bile, sour as vomit, bitter as wine, and close my eyes again, tightly, against the world. So I can't see your light.

    You'll sit there for the rest of the day, won't you? Maybe you'll be out there still tonight.

    My fists clenched against the blankets suddenly relax; there's a warmth in my chest I didn't know before as I slowly, calmly, go to sleep, a smile flickering across my face, soothed by the thought...

    maybe I'll go meet you out then.

    And maybe we can just...

    talk.

    Like always.

    Again, for the first time in years.

    And maybe, when I hold you,

    this won't hurt so bad anymore.

    Its always been like that.

    But I've got to stop hurting you too.

    You make me too happy; I can't keep paying you back like this, without you even knowing why.

    You've always brought too much happiness to me; so much its almost not fair. Someone like me doesn't deserve it, but still, you'll always be there.

    How do you just sit there? With your chin trembling but your eyes set so hard, your fists remain tight at your sides around your knees which you've got scrunched up to your chest like some pouting rebel kid; saying that you won't let me go for the world.

    It makes me want to cry, just watching you for the past day and a half.

    I don't know why you're still there.

    You shouldn't be.

    It'll hurt you.

    I let out a sob; my arms wrapped around my knees just like you, as I let out the tears from my chest, breaking apart, like a child; and now we’re crying together, separated by seven floors and a mile of brick and my stupidity between us…crying like two broken kids, two broken lovers with hands disjointed so disturbingly out of whack we can’t even hold each others…

    But we can still kiss.

    And we can still try.

    Another day, I’ll try harder.

    I will.

    And I swear that one day I’ll make it not hurt this much—

    sobbing so hard

    just from not being with you.

    Both of us, not together--

    Both of us not knowing quite, why, either.