A/N: All charactes, concepts, references etc. belong to Masashi Kishimoto. I did not create Naruto.

Trigger warning: Thoughts of suicide briefly mentioned, PTSD. The beginning is pretty angsty.

This takes place during the blank period when Sasuke and Sakura have been getting...reacquainted...in her apartment in Konoha after he returned from his journey.

When Sasuke rises from sleep, it isn't with a jolt, or a startled cry. It isn't accompanied with a maddening panic, nor an animal ache to scrape the flesh off inflamed bones. He rises with a slow hesitance to return to a dewy reality. He's not hurting, but his skin crawls with an ominous fervor all the same. There's a heaviness in his limbs, his throat parched, and his head is filled with a smog.

Lazily, he shifts his head to the side to see a pink haired woman beside him. The soft puffs of air she emits against his shoulder sends chills up his spine. Her face is contorted, painted with a ghostly palette he knows all too well.

Sakura is having a nightmare.

He can see it in the way her brows are pinched together, her fingers hooked into his pale flesh, leaving angry welts in their wake. A whimper escapes her unconscious form when he shifts, "Why?"

A deep frown snakes into his features, and Sasuke sits up on her plush bed, careful to physically disturb her position. He takes a moment to analyze her, his head calling forth memories of the night before—how he came over unexpectedly, needing to hear her voice. And how he cashed out on that opportunity, listening to her recount stories all night before sleep stole her consciousness from him. And now, he's comes to reclaim it. Leaning over her small frame, his fingers grasp at her shoulder. "Sakura," he calls. "Wake—"

Had he not been the elite shinobi he was, Sasuke would have a chakra scalpel jammed in his throat right now. His fingers tense around the thin wrist he had managed to cage in his palm. Her emerald eyes pin him with a divine wrath, her brows knit together in accusation. Soft lips part and venom pours through gritted teeth, "Coward!"

He feels himself smacked with a pang of hurt, bearing witness to a naked anger he knew he must have incited but had never wanted confirmation of. That poisonous gaze was meant for him and him alone. His stomach clenches with that same haunting guilt that strangled him for more years than he could count.

Sasuke knew exactly what invoked her nightmares. His memories pool before him: His fingers coiled around her slender throat, threatening to steal her last breath; a holy light he wields filling his palm, the distant sound of birds chirping, drowned by the heated rhythm of his own blood pumping forcefully through his ears. And her eyes—those glossy, terror-stricken eyes. The phantom image branded his mind with burning iron. His stomach lurches and Sasuke consciously fights the bile back down.

Realization seeps into Sakura's expression, and something struggles inside of her. Her clammy skin, bound beneath his fingers, begins to trembles. "Sasuke?" And he makes an effort not to shudder at the pure innocence in her voice. She gasps. "Sasuke, I didn't mean to—" She chews her lip. And he must look as terrified and guilt-ridden as he feels because now her voice cracks, "Oh, Sasuke."

A sharp sob rips out of Sakura's throat. He releases her hand to watch her violently shake, struggling to regain her composure. "I'm so sorry." Her eyelids clench shut, tears rushing forward in torrents.

Sasuke has mostly outgrown his suicidal tendencies, but it was moments like these that beckon him to reconsider his stance on the mercy his death could bring. Watching the only person who has ever loved him so passionately, yet tranquilly, in that way he had always so desperately needed—watching her, his Sakura, shaking with the sobs of his sins—

What other atonement was there for such a crime? What atonement was there but death to the loathsome cretin who has so deeply wronged her? To excavate his barely beating heart with a dull blade, (it must be painful, to feel and to simultaneously not feel at all,) and leave his body to let the crows pick out the retribution that his cursed sinew had so ardently cried for.

Sakura's hands come to shield her face from him then, giving her a moment of privacy to choke on her breath and fight back the tears. Sasuke feels like a monster.

'But I'm not,' the lone Uchiha reminds himself. And it's true because monstrosity finally became a choice, not a stationary default. And he chose to let it go.

So Sasuke gathers his courage, and bows his head down. His lips graze the seal on her forehead. "It's okay," he murmurs, his fingers enveloping her small wrist. He frees her left hand from her wet cheek before replacing it with his own. His finger collects the wetness there with such unexpected tenderness, another shudder wracks her body. He presses his lips more firmly on her forehead in an open-mouthed kiss. "It's okay, Sakura," he whispers, the deep lull of his voice so soothing she hardly recognizes it as human.

It's enough to contrast the memories, enough to separate past and present. "I'm sorry." She hesitantly collects the calm he offers her.

There is a moment of stillness, his breathing steady, her rapid gasps declining to shallow puffs, his thumb moving in lazy circles along her cheek. He's encouraged by the growing regulation of her breathing, how responsive she is to his touch. His lips graze her temple and saunter down, fueled by his determination to be a catalyst for healing in the same way he once was for hurting.

He kisses her, lips meeting like hands in prayer. Delicate but firm, he grasps the back of her head, imprisoning her with more than just the hypnotic movement of his mouth against hers. She sighs into the kiss, deepening it, her arms stiffly wrapping around his neck. The tension leaves her body, her fingers gently sifting through his dark tresses. He feel his own heaviness leave too.

No. Death isn't atonement. This is. The sensual touch of heir mouths, his tongue slowly tracing her plump bottom lip before gliding past it.

He kisses her again and again, a calculated assuagement spurred by the tinge of salt he tastes mixed in with their saliva. Sakura's hold on his inky locks relaxes, tenses, relaxes again. "Sakura," he breathes between a kiss.

Her right hand trails around his head, cups his cheek. "Sasuke," Sakura calls, breaking a kiss.

But he can't stop, something needy and frantic clawing inside of him because his fingers are still wet from her tears. And one moment can't compete with so many years of the sheer hurt. He gives a sharp tug of her hair and slants his lips over hers in poorly concealed desperation. She gasps, and his teeth dig into her bottom lip, biting gently before massaging it with his tongue.

A slow growing moisture begins to collect between her legs. She kisses him back, a gentle acknowledgement of her succession. The fingers on his cheek trail to caress his jaw, her thumb successfully slipping between their lips to trace his bottom one. The gesture successfully reins in Sasuke's attention and he pauses.

"You don't have to," Sakura says, concern brazen in her features.

But he does.

He pulls back, his eyes bore into her glossy ones and her breath hitches from the sheer intensity of his gaze.

He does. He does and he doesn't know how to tell her how bad he does—how bad he needs this. But this isn't about him and he has to remind himself of that again. So instead he says, "I know." His thumb mimics hers and glide over her pink soft lips, his eyes tracing his fingers descent. "I want to," he confesses. Once more, Sasuke kisses her. Sakura lets him.

He feels himself losing his focus, his body lowering to fully press against her own. The warmth of her skin seeps past her clothes. The thin garment of her tank top does nothing to conceal every dip and curve of her form from him. Sasuke's stomach trades queasiness for something hotter, hungrier. His tongue twists against hers and Sakura let's out a delicious whimper. There's electricity surging through him in the next moment. He pulls his hips, then torso backwards, fearing she may come to realize the effects she has on him. Seeking to distract her from the need pooling between his legs, he moves his lips down her jaw. Her eyes flutter shut and she exhales softly. His lips drift down the column of her throat. He kisses, licks, sucks, nips—

Bites.

"Ah!" Sakura gasps.

His tongue glides along her collar bone, his teeth grazing the flesh before he captures it in another hungry suckle. He moves further down, lips teasing the edge of her tank top. Sakura tenses. Seeking to soothe her, his hand gently caresses her cheek once more, and he plants a firm kiss on her lips. Slowly, Sasuke sits up.

Her eyes open, half-lidded and irrefutably ravenous. Her lips swollen, cheeks flushed. Her rose hair, tousled and inviting. Sasuke stirred with a feral need to possess, to cradle. He adjusts his position, his knees laying on either side of her hips. Although the swelling in his pants was as obvious as ever, Sasuke does nothing to conceal the protrusion. Instead he leans up, his posture stout. He hides nothing in his gaze.

Viridian eyes drink in his god-like form. The moonlight sneaking past the panes of her window is the only form of luminosity, but she could still trace his every feature. Sasuke exuded pride in almost everything he did, and while a good portion of the time it made her want to kick his gonads in (especially when it involved his and Naruto's childish banter) there were still moments like these where she could not help but feel that he was entirely justified in his arrogance. There he is—all black and blue and so cruelly beautiful. His muscular frame was bare for her to soak in. The dark trail of hair along his abdomen hinted to the feature beneath, though she didn't need guesswork to know what was there. The generous bulge beneath his thin cotton pants stood haughtily erect. She meets his mismatched eyes again, and they sear her with palpable lust (and something else?) It's not the first time she has seen him in such a lewd state, but it has her shivering with anticipation all the same. Sakura licks her lips.

A lone hand comes to her waist, his fingers nudging the fabric of her top up. He retains eye contact with her, studying her features while his hand splays across her skin beneath the fabric. He rubs gentle patterns on her stomach heatedly. His thumb travels to outline her ribs, dancing just below her breast. He spots a sudden hesitance in her eyes and he recedes to gently stroke around her navel once more. Sasuke leans forward, his forehead meeting hers. His warm breath ghosts against her lips. "Sakura."

She closes her eyes, her arousal spiking at the lulling sound of his deep voice calling her name. She exhales, "Sasuke."

His lips graze hers, teasing her with his proximity. His hand continues gentle explorations along her skin. "Look at me," his tone is demanding, but not cruel.

She obeys without hesitation. There's a passion in his eyes, hypnotic Rinnegan and Onyx laying siege.

"I need you to know..."

He thumbs her underbreast, and she shudders. He strokes soothingly, and she can't help but wiggle in his grasp. His thumb glides over her hardening peak and she flinches at the contact. The side of his lip curls in a smirk. He fully cups and molds her left breast in his hand. Her fingers make themselves busy, gently teasing the hairs on the back of his neck approvingly. "Know?" she asks.

His lips press against hers before moving to bathe her neck with attention. Her sweet scent fills his nostrils, urging him on. His hand continues teasing her nipple with a tenderness that should have been foreign to a shinobi as ruthless as he. Her body arches in response, pleased with the heat of his hands, his mouth. He takes the opportunity to pull her top up, exposing ivory skin to the night air. She shivers instantly, her body curling in. Sasuke's lips and tongue alike press against her pulse, placing a bruising kiss there on her throat. Her fingers clench his hair and she feels her stomach clench with a pulsing need.

She gasps then, feeling the spongy wet warmth of his tongue flicking along the crown of her breast. He licks the pebbling peak, circles it, then draws her into his mouth with a quick but firm suckle. She can feel a warm hand exploring her, completely bypassing her shorts to tease the lining of her panties.

Sakura bites her lip gently, her mossy green eyes submerged in lust. God, what was he doing to her? Slowly her right hand ventures between their bodies, grips his wrist gently. He fingers the elastic for a moment. "Know what?" she somehow thinks to inquire further. Responsive, his hand descends through a neatly trimmed patch of curls. His tongue flicks against her nipple before he raises his head for their eyes meet to once more.

He's painfully attentive now. "This." He watches a shiver overtake her as a finger slips along her folds.

Sasuke hums appreciatively at the moisture she's already collected. His finger roams up and down her slit before pressing against her sensitive nub. Sakura gasps, bites her lip. Her nails lightly scratch at his scalp. Her eyes trace his insidious smirk. Despite the playful curve of his lips, there's something about the gleam of his eyes that just radiates warmth and it makes her stomach flutter. It's not fair how he can be so devilishly handsome. How he can have this much power over her. He always has, and the force of her submission perturbs her.

She's reminded again of her meek disposition as his finger pushes inside of her, forcing a cry from her parted lips. "And this." He continues, his thumb pressing insistently on her clit, his finger gently receding before pushing back into her tight passage.

Sakura tenses, sighs. "Sasuke, God, you..."

Wet kisses slowly press against her throat, his finger moving in and out of her at a painfully slow pace. "Yes?" his voice is a sonorous melody in her slowly fogging mind. He suckles hard now, no doubt leaving another bruise.

She gasps. "You're teasing me," Sakura whines.

"Am I?" he asks, now gazing at her with haughty eyes and a full sinister grin. Bastard.

Sasuke roams over her form, drinking in everything. Her sweet scent, her small, supple breasts, toned stomach, long pale legs. And he can't help but note the enticing way her thighs press together insistently, caging his hand with a hesitant defiance as his finger pistons in and out of her.

Sasuke removes his hand altogether then, earning a wanton mewl from the beauty beneath him. He doesn't keep her waiting, wet fingers pulling down her shorts. He gazes at the exposed red garment sitting dangerously low on her hips. His eyes gleam at the pink curls peeking out. "You'll forgive me," the Uchiha teases. Sasuke parts her legs with his knee now, granting him a full view of the mess he's incited, the center of her panties stained with his favorite flavor. "Won't you?"

She shudders at the salacious tone, though was all too aware of the undertone of his words, considering the initial reason they had both roused from their sleep. She lazily sits up and meets his eyes.

The Uchiha prodigy swoops down and captures her lips almost instinctively. She hums into the kiss, cupping his jaw, his luxurious scent and taste invading her senses. Their lips part and his eyes give her that heated look again. Her stomach quivers in excitement. Sakura moves to explore him now, fingers dragging along his muscled shoulders. She is in awe. How is this possible? How did it happen? How is Sasuke Uchiha—God of Lightening, the ephemeral force of destruction and blinding beauty—kissing her, touching her?

She moves to kiss his jaw emphatically, helplessly laying kisses along his skin, her hands roaming his chest, feeling him tense. "Sasuke," his name slips off her lips with too much urgency, too much desperation. Possessed, she kisses his neck. "Sasuke, I lo-"

He forces her back down on the bed with a rough shove to her breast bone. "No." Jarred, her confused eyes seek justification in his. And she finds it instantly. She softens at the frown on his face, the pleading look in his eyes. He kisses her temple now, and she exhales her chagrin, closing her eyes. "This is for you," he whispers. She feels his lips so low on her stomach, his teeth nipping her flesh. She tenses at the hot feel of his tongue swirling in her navel, butterfly kisses trailing down to her center. He kisses her aching bud over her panties with precision. She shudders from the gesture, making no protest as he proceeds to remove her last article of clothing.

She can feel his hot breath dance against her skin, a wet kiss is pressed against her inner thigh, so painfully close to her sex. "All for you," the promise is a deep murmur against her skin.

Then the wide expanse of his tongue glides up her aching slit. Sakura cries out, her fingers snatching at the sheets beneath her.

Sasuke goes slow, his wet appendage drawing lazy circles around her peaking clit. She flexes her hips reflexively—gasping as she successfully manages to feel the wet heat directly on her needy bud.

Sasuke grunts in response, and his hand flies to her hip. His nails mark her skin as he grips her dangerously. "Be still," he demands.

She bites her lip and forces herself to relax in his grip. She spreads her legs just a bit wider in invitation. He presses a kiss to her thigh in compliance, then continues. He flicks his tongue around her clit, granting slow strokes over her hood and against her labia, but never on her needy bud head on. Sakura mewls desperately at this. "Please," she couldn't help but whimper out.

His pants are uncomfortably tight and as much as Sasuke loves to torture his vixen, her cries make it so hard for him to restrain himself. He closes his eyes and acquiesces, his tongue gliding over her, finally lavishing her clit with attention it desperately sought. Her taste, her scent, the soft texture of her petals against his mouth—Sasuke can't help but grind his hips into the mattress for some semblance of relief. His hand moves to massage her round bottom, his lips close over her swelling jewel in a gentle suckle. He doesn't protest when Sakura grinds her hips against his face in approval, too distracted by the sound of her mewling as they vibrate from his ear drums and straight to his groin.

She feels his hot tongue probing at her sex, the the tip peaking in before he moves back to play with her clit. His pace is still agonizingly steady, drawing out any hope for an orgasm. Sakura can only help but whimper, even as she feels two fingers push inside of her, stretching her. He drives them in and out of her, his mouth licking and sucking at her bud, all too slowly, all too gently.

There was something burning inside of him, telling him to keep her here, to prolong this for an eternity or two. This moment, where his kunoichi is completely at his mercy. This wasn't new, Sasuke always had a bit of a power trip when he makes love to her. He's invigorated by her cries of pleasure, not unlike a demon heated by the cries of its victims in the wake of his bloodlust. But tonight is special. Tonight is a night of worship—of paying his respects to his diety. Drawing her tiny pearl into his mouth, suckling with a gentleness, he savors the sounds she makes at his ministrations. Cries for him, whimpers for him, quivers for him. He reduces her omnipotent power to frantic gasps of submission—a pleased acceptance to the tortured bliss he offers her. And he can't help but take every last bit of blessings she offers in return, lapping at her nectar with a neatly calculated intent.

Inversely, Sakura pleads for more. She desperately rocks her hips against him and buries her fingers in his hair to press him closer. She whines aloud as his motions become even slower in retaliation, tantric and tantalizing. Sasuke was hell bent on torturing her, keeping her just on the edge. Even as his fingers curl to press against that especially soft, fleshy tissue inside of her, he doesn't press for too long or with much pressure. Still, she's left crying in the wake of the pleasure that surges through her. This was too much.

"Sasuke!" The kunoichi cries accusingly. He's undisturbed by her threats, simply responding with another hungry lash of his tongue on her clit and a thrust of his fingers inside her.

As if she couldn't feel less vulnerable, Sasuke then stops altogether now, tongue and fingers alike pulling away from her. He wipes his face of her juices before sucking his fingers clean, his lustful gaze penetrating her as he tastes her essence. She shudders from the erotic sight.

When his fingers hook beneath his pants, Sakura's all too eager to help him out of them. She takes the opportunity to kiss his abdomen in succulent devotion, her hands gripping his erection the moment he sprang free. She takes a moment to adore his length, thick and veiny. She gives him a few pumps before placing a hungry kiss at the tip, taking the liberation of tasting his precum.

Sasuke moans, and grips her shoulder. He tries to reel in any remaining restraint he has as Sakura greedily extorts the moment in a fashion not dissimilar to the one he had her in moments ago. He shudders at the full stroke of her tongue along his heated cock. Another hot kiss to the tip. One glide of her tongue around his head. Two. Three. Four...

He snatches her head back with a pull of her hair, and she cries out in half surprise, half pain. Sasuke kisses her then, firmly, but gently. His fingers move to massage her scalp, an apology for his forcefulness. His tongue glides into her mouth, and the two of them tumble back on the bed, his bare body caging hers. Their lips part and Sakura finds ebony traded for crimson, tomoe swirling sluggishly. The heated look of his Sharingan and Rinnegan pin her in place as his hand moves to hook her leg over his shoulder.

It wasn't intentional, but Sasuke could feel the erratic flare of chakra through his eyes. He's overtaken by the erotic sight: his cherry blossom watching him with a lustful anticipation, breasts heaving with each soft breath she took. Her skin is perfect, soft, and smooth, blemished only be the love bites he so generously bestowed upon her. And her pink—her enticing pink—calling him. From her head of hair, to her swollen lips, to peaked nipples, to the mound of pubic strands by her pelvis, and down to the moist petals between her legs—the very same petals he's now parting with his hard cock, sliding hot flesh along her sopping slit. She moans, and he shudders.

He continues the lazy course, the length of his genitalia trailing up and down hers for several moments as he grips her hips and positions her to his liking. With her hips raised and her single leg still over her shoulder, Sakura whimpers at the realization that he is already aligning her for deep penetration. Once he was satisfied, Sasuke positions himself against her hot core. He then lowers himself to kiss her, simultaneously pushing past her walls. Sakura breaks the kiss to cry out, overcome with the jarring sensation of being filled.

She hears Sasuke choke out a baritone melody of his own, brows creased in a failed attempt to maintain control. He sinks impossibly deep inside of her; their heads are clouding with the heated sensation.

Sasuke can do nothing to ebb the pleasure of her hot walls tightening around him, can do nothing when that flare in his abdomen commands him to take her.

His hips start on a slow rhythm that puts his previous teases to shame. His calloused thumb caresses her palm and wrist so lovingly, she's sure she's meant to drown in the gesture. He captures her lips in a kiss brimming with an equal tenderness.

Sakura plays with obsidian hair with her free hand, using it as slight leverage to stabilize herself as she meets his thrusts. She tries to maintain her control too, because she knows with how worked up they both are, this isn't going to last long. But she can't keep her desperation at bay when he's penetrating her so deeply, filling every void inside her. His lips are worshiping her neck now, encouraging her. She mewls and gasps again and again, tense and aching, and so desperate for all the completion he has to offer.

The sound of her sweet moans coupled with the wet slush of his hardness churning her juices spurs him on. Sasuke struggles helplessly to fight back his impending orgasm, his breath hot against her skin, his pulse ringing in his ears. She clamps around him and his groan is guttural then. "Sakura." His hips lose their tantric cadence, thrusting heatedly with a voracious appetite. "Fuck, Sakura."

He looks down on her and he's overwhelmed. The green of her eyes are glossed over again, and she's panting, her hips desperately maneuvering to meet his. Her movements are even more jerky and uncoordinated than his. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair a pink halo of a crystalline ascension. She's so hot, and she's so tight, and she's so—

"You're beautiful," he gasps. His fingers coil around the back of her neck now, and his tongue slithers up her throat, hot and wet. "You're so beautiful." He kisses her with raw ferocity, a sharp contrast to the sweetness of his confession.

Sakura can hardly soak in the tenderness of his words, overtaken by the way he's plunging in and out of her with a wild abandon. She's screaming now, her words alternating between swears, prayers to the heavens, and his name. A truly fitting arsenal that he would have been bemused by if he wasn't so engrossed in the pure ecstasy of her walls tightening around him.

Her nails claw into his back, and he fucks her harder for it. Sakura gasps between moans, walls pulsing, and gripping him painfully. She throws her head back, his name a deafening scream on her lips. The tightness around his member has Sasuke soaring. His teeth clamp down on her shoulder and his hips roughly ground out in a slowing series of jabs that prolong her orgasm and ignites his. A searing white flashes behind his clenched eyelids; Sakura's are still in the back of her head. As his orgasm ripples through him, he's vaguely aware of a new, wet sensation that he's sure isn't coming from him. The jerky movement of his hips makes a slow descent into stillness, his body spent of his sticky fluid after having coated her inside and out.

His gasping frame struggles to stay upright, but he refuses to use her as a cushion. Sakura snorts at his valiant effort. She presses him down anyway, allowing him to collapse on her equally spent form.

Silence fills the air, as their panting begins to still. There's a lot of things that come to Sakura's mind to disrupt the quiet: mostly "wow" or "holy fuck." But she decides on uttering nothing but a warm hum as she feels his hot breath slowly close on her skin, now pressing tender kisses over the area his teeth had marked.

When he fully catches his breath, he sits up, and there's a collection of fluids that escapes her sex as he drags himself out. He collects her chin in his palm and tilts her head to meet his eyes. His gaze is no longer smothered with lust, but the ardent sweetness that had been lying behind it. "I love you."

He visibly watches her sigh, all remaining tension falling out of her with the confession. Her lips spread so wide then. Sasuke feels his throat constrict in the liberation he finds in the glow of her smile. His heart pinches as the words that follow after too. "I love you too, Sasuke." She kisses him then, and it's sweet and refreshing, and every piece of him melts into putty.

Maybe he was dealt a terrible hand. Maybe his life seemed like drawing one Joker after another, their tongues hissing in a maniacal laughter, watching him become the icy ouroborus of liquid crimson and bitter black. His story was one of grief: losing his family, losing his brother, losing himself. But Sasuke would be a damned fool if he didn't know how absolutely blessed he was to have this woman in his life. She gave him a cleansing that spilled beyond time, beyond dimension, seeping in between the stitching of his soul. Sakura is home. Her presence is a divine promise of permanence, one he feels most strongly in the union of their beings.

Finally pulling away from her lips, Sasuke rolls over and sighs dreamily. Sakura giggles in response, that tender smile still plastered on her lips. She watches the red in his right eye swirl back into charcoal with fascination, before turning her attention to the wetness around her mid section.

She sits up, now thoroughly examining the mess between her thighs. "I think you made me squirt, Sasuke," she confesses, her cheeks now aflame.

"Hm," He hums in acknowledgement. "I felt something wet earlier." He doesn't have to wear his signature smirk—they both are well aware of how amazing the sex was, and the effects it had on her—but he wears it nonetheless.

Sakura feels her face heat even more, but she's quick to swallow her embarrassment. She gently strokes a few strands of her hair from her face. "These sheets are filthy," Sakura declares with a pout. She springs up off the bed and moves to collect their clothes. "I can't sleep in this. I'm going to wash them."

Sasuke sits up then, grunting in response. He glances at the time, something they both willfully ignored despite knowing she would have to be at the hospital in the morning. 3:26 am. He huffs, and runs a hand through his long locks. He looks back at her slender form. "Leave them here," he decides, gesturing to the clothes in her hand. "I'll change the sheets. Go shower, I'll meet you there soon."

She looks over at him, and there's a pause. Taking a moment to admire the scene of their nudity, glowing in moonlight and the aftermath of their lovemaking. A sudden sense of serenity washes over the room. Sakura smiles. "Alright," she agrees. "Thank you, Sasuke."

He only nods in response. She places the clothes on the edge of the bed, and cups his cheek. She makes an effort to lean over and place a gentle kiss on his forehead. Sakura offers him another saccharine smile, then retreats. His eyes fix themselves on her slender back before it disappears behind the door.

He lays back down on the bed then, exhaling softly into the night air. He's still for a moment, recollecting the events that transpired. His lips curve into a gentle smile. If love is redemption, Sasuke wouldn't mind paying penance to her for the rest of his life.