Cigarette Scars

Tracing her finger around the bumps with a barely there touch, Sakura was left to wonder yet again where he got the wounds.

What did it say about her that their relationship was already physical but she didn’t feel like some questions could be asked?

Sasuke never flinched when she brushed against the old scars. Never startled out of loving her when she bit into his forearms with her nails, leaving crescent shaped reminders of where she’s been, of where he’s been.

He probably does it himself, she mused as he tucked himself back into his boxer briefs and pulled the covers up over her shoulders.

What mess has this beautiful boy━beautiful man━become from what he’s seen?

“I should go,” he whispered, pressing a kiss on Sakura’s temple. “Before Tsunade comes back.”

Sakura watched as he slipped on his clothing as quietly as possible. He slipped his switchblade into his back pocket and tucked his Browning into his torso holster before slipping on his bomber jacket. Fully clothed he could pass for a random first year university student.

Maybe if he were born into a different family he would have been one.

But then maybe they would have never met.

“Not very subtle are you?” Sasuke muttered as Sakura lit up his cigarette.

She was taking a break from crooning out the sultry love ballads the patrons filed into the lounge for. That and the tables for cards in the back.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

She grinned at him slyly and tilted her head in a way that caused her ringlets to sway prettily around her head.

“Tsunade is going to find out if you keep eye fucking me from across the bar.”

“You’re not so subtle either, y’know?” Sakura cracked into the dialect that Tsunade strained to teach out of her.

But once a street urchin always a street urchin. No matter how pretty the clothes she wore now, she couldn’t forget the hunger and the cold. Nor the fear that what she so willingly gave to Sasuke would have been stolen from her.

“I have another song to sing for the night.”

“Maybe this time, you don’t look right at me,” Sasuke whispered, leaning in so his hair brushed against her cheek, silkier than one would expect.

Sakura turned away haughtily, shaking her curls around her head. She refused to let him see the pink of her face as heat bloomed across her cheeks.

Sakura was rubbing soothing circles with her thumbs on a burn mark she hadn’t seen before when Sasuke groaned awake.

“Mama ‘Nade stitched you up good, huh?”

Sakura smiled softly and leaned against the couch, adjusting her body to relieve the pressure on her knees. It had been a few hours but she hadn’t left Sasuke’s side. She almost fell asleep, right on the floor.

“Bringing Shisui all of those nights so he could lie on this couch,” Sasuke winced as a spasm of pain shot through him, “I never actually thought I would be the one on this couch.”

“How d’ya get stabbed?”

“Sorry I missed your set.”

Sakura frowned. He was always avoiding questions about work.

“You can tell me y’know. No judgements. Not from me.”

“You may be a sparrow but I’m not talking shop with you. I don’t want to be just that with you,” Sasuke mumbled. “You may be one of Madara’s little birds but you’re my Sakura.”

Continuing rubbing the newest cigarette burn, Sakura leaned her head against his thigh.

“You’re going to have to talk one day,” she whispered. “And I hope it’s with me.”

Sasuke closed his eyes and Sakura was ready to get up and leave. Their relationship wasn’t going anywhere.

“Later. Lemme sleep for now. You’re being annoying.”


“I’m trying to sleep.”

“You better rest well ‘cause we’re gonna talk a lot.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Sakura shifted her body and kept rubbing her soothing patterns, sliding the pads of her fingertips along Sasuke’s smooth skin and the scars.

There was so much she needed to ask her beautiful boy━beautiful man.


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