Naruto nipped at his cigarette, sucked in a deep breath until it filled him up to his throat, until he chocked. Cigarette spat on the grey asphalt, he began coughing like an idiot, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.
In between his heavy coughing, there was this faint low chuckle, god, he would recognize it anywhere.
He glanced, too embarrassed to face the dark hair man. Sasuke stood solemnly in front of him, arms crossed.
"Shut up." Naruto grunted, regained some of his composure, not that he really had one.
Hn, Sasuke tilted his head, his long bangs bobbing on his sides. Long sleeved shirt, jeans, boots, black everywhere.
Naruto drew back until he finally hit the wall, clumsily he leaned on to it. Sheepishly, he turned to face Sasuke.
Sasuke's eyes were fixated on him, cold, unreadable yet it calmed him, made him feel immensely warm.
How long has it been since the last time he saw him. Sasuke was as beautiful as ever.
"Shut up." Naruto repeated although Sasuke hasn't said a word.
The way Sasuke eyed him from head to toe made him oddly shiver despite himself. He briefly close his eyes in a daze for some reason before snapping them open again.
Sasuke wasn't there anymore, Naruto looked around in sheer panic.
"Sasuke. Sasuke!" He called over and over, at the top of his lungs.
"You look pathetic." The glassy timber echoed.
Sasuke leaned against the wall, smocking.
Naruto squinted. "You were over there", he tilted his head, too exhausted to gesture.
"Hm", Sasuke sipped at his cigarette.
Naruto stared at it, then at the ground.
"You took it." He sounded irritated for some reason.
"I did", apparently, was Sasuke's answer.
"That's fucking disgusting!" Naruto yelled.
Hands, dropped to his sides, Sasuke turned to him and smiled, warm, and almost sad.
"STOP DOING THAT, MOTHERFUCKER!" Naruto snapped, he launched onto Sasuke, took hold of his wrist and squeezed, forcing him to drop the already cold cigarette.
Sasuke didn't resist, he allowed Naruto to corner him into the wall, looking almost amused.
Naruto starred at him intently, unable to hide the pain and hurt in his eyes.
Sasuke held a faint smirk on his face, didn't budge an inch.
Naruto's hold around his wrists weakened and hiccups started to fill the silence.
Naruto sniffed, wiped his sneeze on his shirt and sneezed again. His whole body shook violently until it hurts.
Sasuke st himself free from Naruto's grasp and put a hand on his chest, for a second, Naruto though Sasuke was pushing him away but he didn't. Slowly the hand moved to his shoulder blades, to his neck, Sasuke caressed the hair behind his head, gently as if trying to comfort him.
Naruto stare at him through his tears.
Sasuke didn't show any kind of emotion, not that he'd expected anything. The next thing he knew, Sasuke had pulled him close, his head resting on Sasuke's shoulders. Naruto buried himself into Sasuke's nape, his lips inches away from the sensitive skin.
"Sasuke", Naruto called, continued to cry his eyes out.
"I'm here". Sasuke made a low chuckle.
"No, you're not Sasuke." Naruto muttered in between his hiccups. He kept on mumbling inaudibly and held onto Sasuke as if his life depended on it.
"Don't", Naruto felt a hand on his back caressing him, the other buried in his golden hair. "Cry." Sasuke sounded far off, sounded like he didn't belong to this world.
It's funny how just a few short years can change the way you feel about all of the people you used to know. The whole process of them becoming "someone you used to know," without you even noticing is a bizarre ride. It's funny that a few years after graduation, when people are home to visit their parents, taking a minute long break from their new lives, you see all these strangers who used to be somebody to you. And you make small talk, with a beer in your hand as a security blanket. Keeping the prop so you can blame it on being drunk if the conversation derails the next time you meet them along the road. And it's funny that when those somebodies become people you don't know, how little their thoughts about you seem to matter. How little the opinion of someone you cared to impress means to you anymore. And you swallow down the moment in a last awkward gulp of your beer and then you take your opportunity to bail, "I need a refill."
To the boy who sits in front of me in history.
You've become a beautiful mystery to me. Whether I'll ever get to know you past the date of our final, I do not know. But for these fleeting moments, I appreciate the things you have to say.
I like that you give no fucks about saying exactly what you think.
I like that you let it all come from the heart.
I like that when I see your big brown eyes, they don't make me sad.
I like that all of the things that stand out about you are not just because they're a mirror image of the last person I loved.
Maybe one day, I'll bump into you and say something smooth. Or maybe I won't.
But until the last time we both walk out of our history room, I promise to appreciate the moments we share.
the girl who sits behind you.
...and then he jumped on his horse, not just any old way, but like cowboy heroes in old movies jumped on their horses—running then leapfrogging into the saddle with his fast horse near full gallop, the hero grabbing the flying reins, taking a last look back, smiling goodbye ,galloping, galloping, horse and rider in a cloud of dust moving in the wind, out across the empty plains heading for the blue mountains in the distance...urging his horse onward, the horse sensing this was the time, this was the time they'd be gone and gone for good, gone in a cloud of dust finally leaving nothing to see but the plains and blue mountains so far away.
Ultimamente cerco di convincermi che non esiste una soluzione per il mio problema. E non sono sicura di aver ragione. Ho una vita bellissima, ho sempre avuto che volevo, sempre ottenuto quello per cui lavoravo. Da piccola il mio sogno più grande era andare a vivere altrove, vedere il mondo, essere in un posto più affascinante perché tutti dicevano che le cose nel mio Paese non andavano per il giusto verso e che all'estero si viveva meglio. E alla fine, il mio sogno si avverò. Non c'era persona più felice di me. A soli diciotto anni, da sola in un Paese straniero a vivere la vita che ho sempre voluto... ero felicissima e piena di entusiasmo, piena di amore per la vita e convinta di poter conquistare il mondo.
Ma quando gli anni della mia adolescenza sono passati, mi sono svegliata tra due mondi paralleli... due vite contemporanee che non sono destinate ad incontrarsi. Non fraintendetemi, sono tutte e due delle vite stupende e non potrei lamentarmi di niente, ma loro sono due ed io solo una. E mentre io sono qua ad organizzare le feste con i miei nuovi amici, il mio amato e tutto ciò che ora fa parte della mia vita, a più di 2000 km, ci sono i miei genitori, tutti i miei parenti e i miei più cari amici con cui sono cresciuta e che nessuno potrà mai rimpiazzare, che vivono con entusiasmo la magia natalizia, ma senza di me. Secondo voi, una soluzione c'è?!