Sasuke and Sakura.

God.

Everything was ugly. Too damn ugly. If she could, she would throw a bucket of glitter and honey over the starless sky, and city, and you (because you don't like sticky things but you're also pretty) and anything else that was in her path. But she couldn't because she was laying on the cement floor with trailing thoughts and spilt coffee.

–when the dance is through, it's me and you. come on, would it really be so bad?

It always happens to her. Bad things. Horribly embarrassing bad (badbad) things. The breaking of glass, the scraping of knees against asphalt floors, those horrible prom night, pink Iseeyou pustules that pops up unexpectedlyexpectedly and the 

I-really-like-you-but-I'm-making-a-big-fool-out-of-myself-right-now-so-I'll-leave moments. Bad. It was always an ending to another beginning for her.

And then there was him. You. The can I slap you and kiss you at the same time boy. 

"It's not the end of the world."

"Of course it's not, if it was, I'd actually have some luck."

"Hn."

And then you'd do that funny little thatsnotevenaword sound. You were able to amuse me and stop me with that insignificant little noise.

She would get mad, throw a fit and then he would smile his smile, your rare kodak moment smile, his something-to-die-for smiles. My Sasuke smiles.

–all we can do is keep breathing now.

Instead of changing the world and making it a better place with glitter and honey, we lay on the cold asphalt ground under the starless sky with spilt coffee and trailing thoughts and smudged smiles with bad luck and broken glasses because I'd rather be sleeping and dreaming about tomorrow with you.


–you close your eyes and kiss your hand, then you blow it