Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto, then I wouldn't have to go to school…-sigh- Life is unfair.

A/N: A birthday present for my wonderful friend Tales, 'cause she's my Neji x Sasuke friend. Even though I suck at writing Sasuke, you gotta give me credit for trying. (And the shortest one-shot I've ever written. Just about one page O.x;) Have a happy birthday!

Not only the first Neji x Sasuke I have ever written, but the first in Sasuke's POV, and thus, I assume that I have, in one way or another, distorted his character. IE, anticipate slight OOCness.

Summary: Neji x Sasuke One-shot White eyes are hard to read.

White eyes are hard to read.

I realize this when I watch him turn his face to the sun, and the light instantly turns that white into silver. I realize this when his face is in the shadows and the darkness turns that white into lilac. And I realize this when he smiles, but those white eyes stay just that. White. I think to myself that if you can't see a person's emotions in their eyes, then it might just be a mask. A charade. I can see the emotion on his face, but not where it really matters…

I wonder if I am hard to read, if my onyx-colored eyes are easily deciphered. If I wear my emotion on my sleeves—or worse still, my face, because he can read me perfectly—perfectly—even without the Byakugan, he still seems to be able to see what others can't.

When we fight, it's easy for me to predict his movements with the Sharingan, but somehow he does the same—somewhere, I can see under his white eyes, he's predicting, calculating, using what he knows, and somehow he manages to do this in the matter of seconds. Only in the heat of battle does the emotionless white drop, and his eyes turn that silver-lavender sheen of his Byakugan White-Eyes, veins rippling through his porcelain-like face, and…

Kami-sama, I sound like one of those idiot fangirls that used to follow me around.

Actually, that reminds me. There are only a few other times I can clearly see emotion in his eyes. The first time was on the anniversary of Hizashi's death. The other times were mostly whenever we had sex.

It wasn't until a few months later I noticed I couldn't, couldn't see that emotion, whenever he said, "I love you." As if he knew what I was thinking, he rolled over, whispered, "Love you," switched off the light, and went to sleep. Still, those white eyes gave nothing away.

Once, against my own better nature, I asked him why. Why he didn't let emotions into his face, his expression, his eyes, why he masked it all. He kissed me; I let the subject drop.

…Now that I think about it, he distracted me very well, almost too well, and didn't give me an answer, at that. Not even a promise at an answer.

He's too goddamned aggravating. I wonder why I put up with him, then I smile, just a little. He probably thinks the exact same thing about me. He bends forward over and asks why I'm smiling—he knows I don't just do it for the hell of it.

"Nothing," is my devious reply, a reply I know that will just have him itching to know the what, the why, the how. It's in his voice, but not in his eyes. Those goddamned beautiful white eyes. He leans over and kisses me, closing his eyes.

White eyes are hard to read.

I guess that's why I try to read them.

A/N: You may now spork, shoot, or otherwise harm me, to death, for this wonderful sappiness. xD