The Barista

Chapter 7 - Irish Coffee

"What the fuck?" Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by Boruto's voice, shouting at the top of his lungs. He came out of the bathroom with his shirt on but undone, a glaring red lipstick mark on the collar.

"What the- what is this?" He pointed at the mark on his shirt.

Sarada did her best to appear innocent and shrugged, taking a sip of her tea, "how am I supposed to know?"

Boruto blinked, "you have to know."

"Why?"

"Because I was with you the whole night. I wasn't anywhere near other girls."

Sarada cleared her throat, trying not to get caught in her lies as a vivid image of how that mark happen started to reappear in her mind.

"Well, you were very drunk. You can't possibly recall your whole night," she shrugged, "you were looking at many girls-"

"No. I wasn't," he interrupted.

"How can you possibly know that if you can't remember?"

'Because you were there and I can never take my eyes of you' was the first answer that came to his mind. Boruto considered just telling her this but then the wiser part of his mind reminded him there was no more Sarada if she even imagined exactly how interested he was in her and therefore decided against it.

"I was not looking at anyone else," he reiterated.

Sarada raised an eyebrow, "what do you mean anyone else?"

Shit. "I just remember dancing with you," he started, rubbing the back of his head and looking anywhere but at her, "and then we were drinking and you were adorable, I hugged you and-"

He stopped. Sarada gulped her tea down, whatever was left of it.

Boruto tilted his head slightly, recalling the events, "and you bit me."

Sarada shrugged, turning away from him to hide her blush, "I don't recall most of it myself, anyway."

Boruto pushed his hair back, his mind somewhere else, "you kissed me." It wasn't a question.

"I kissed your neck," Sarada rushed to defend herself. Boruto stared at her as if she had grown an extra head; it just made her blush harder.

She continued, struggling not to stutter, "I kissed your neck because you were being such a baby about the bite."

"Oh well, in that case," he started sarcastically, "it explains nothing," his hand instinctively covered the place he assumed to be the spot Sarada kissed last night. It was his favourite spot now and it should never be washed again. Ever.

The girl tried to change the subject, "Just give me your shirt, I'll clean it," Sarada motioned for Boruto to take off his shirt. He clung to it and started buttoning it back up.

"No way, it stays as it is."

"What, you're going to keep a red lipstick mark and wear to special occasions?" She added sarcastically, trying to hide her frustration

Boruto nodded vehemently with a mischievous smile, "it's my 'Sarada kissed my neck once shirt', I will wear it forever."

The girl blushed but her determination remained, "give it to me, Boruto."

"Nope," he stepped back, she followed.

Sarada stood on her toes to try and take his shirt off, pulling the collar down. Boruto couldn't help but laugh, "aren't you excited to get me naked."

Sarada was about to tell him to fuck off in the most polite way she could think of until the sound of an opening door interrupted her. The couple turned to find Chocho coming out of her room in a dressing gown, hair all over the place and eyes barely open. She stood with the most bored look on her face, staring at them.

Sarada let go immediately, "this is not what it looks like."

"Oh, really?" Chocho raised an elegant eyebrow, speaking in the most uninterested tone ever, "because it looks like you are trying to undress him."

Boruto smirked and glanced at black haired girl next to him. Sarada cleared her throat, "so yeah, I guess technically it is what it looks like but-"

"Never mind. I'm out." Chocho turned towards the exit and left the apartment, dressing gown on and all.

The blond stared, "so, this is a normal occurrence?"

Sarada shrugged, "she's a great drunk but has mean hangovers," she turned to Boruto with a frown, "now give me your shirt."

The blond laughed as he easily dodged her attempts to get to his clothes, "jeez, if you want to get me naked that much at least invite me out first."

She climbed on top of the couch to try and reach him, mumbling "keep dreaming."

He tutted like a disappointed grown up, "now, now. I want a proper date with a loving request, unfulfilled promises and some food bribes in the middle."

Sarada froze, then sighed, "you know what, keep the shirt."

He pouted, "come on, don't give up so easily," he then smirked, "if you don't want to take me out, you can always let me kiss you."

She raised a curious eyebrow, ignoring the not so terrible tingly feeling in her belly, "and why on earth would I let you kiss me?"

"It's only fair, you kissed me so now you owe me a kiss," he shrugged timidly.

She laughed. "That makes no sense. I kissed you so you should owe me a kiss."

Boruto nodded in agreement, "yes, that sounds reasonable, I owe you a kiss then."

Sarada blinked in confusion; did he just trick her into telling him to kiss her? Was the lack of sleep and alcohol affecting her to the point where she did not see this coming?

The blond just stood there, looking at her with the most disgustingly smug look on his face. Idiot.

Sarada crossed her arms over her chest, "what are you doing here anyway?"

He shrugged, "I just woke up on your sofa, I've got no idea."

The dark haired girl stood in silence for a second before grabbing her phone and quickly texting the best drunk she knew, Chocho. It took her about ten seconds to get a response from her best friend:

SARADA: Chocho, what happened last night? Why is Boruto here?

CHOCHO: Dunno. When I came home you were having hot steamy sex on the floor; I just stepped over you and went to bed.

Sarada's face lost all colour. Boruto tilted his head slightly, "any ideas?"

SARADA: THAT'S NOT FUNNY. WTH HAPPENED?

CHOCHO: LMFAO. Calm down, you dragged him home so you could get rid of the mark on the shirt. You told him to undress, he passed out on the sofa & then you just mumbled something about who cares and went to bed.

The longhaired girl took a deep breath. Before Boruto could open his mouth he was dragged out the apartment and had the door slammed on his face. This girl was way too strong for his own damn good.

Wasabi looked at the clock impatiently, mumbled something under her breath and angrily restocked the sugar, slamming each packet into the box.

Sumire chuckled, "he's not going to come any faster no matter how much aggression you show that sugar."

"He's late."

"You couldn't possibly know that, he never arrives at the same time."

Wasabi gave her half a nod, showing she agreed but wasn't particularly impressed by the truth. This all could be avoided if Sarada fucking Uchiha simply told her what happened Friday. Something must have happened because she can't remember the last time she had seen Sarada so nervous. The girl didn't let it show, she was an Uchiha no matter what and if her dad's family was good at something was resting bitch face. But Sarada was rarely like that, she rarely looked unapproachable, you'd could feel her warmth and kindness just from her eyes - a trait she shared with her uncle Itachi and no other living Uchiha, according to the dark haired girl herself. Wasabi could not deny Sarada was still the last person you'd like to anger; she was protective, feisty and stubborn.

This was not Sarada. The girl that came in to work with her head in the clouds, took about two wrong orders and nearly broke a glass was not her friend. Her friend is flawlessly competent; this was truly out of character.

So Wasabi watched her and Sarada watched the door and grew more restless; it was then Wasabi slapped her forehead and cursed herself for not knowing what this was about: Boruto. If you have a hyperactive, slightly out of herself Sarada, who else could possibly be to blame?

Wasabi shared her theory with Sumire, who covered her surprised laugh shyly, warning her to leave their mutual friend alone. That left her with no option but wait for the blond to come in so she could get all the details - and she was hoping for dirty details - of whatever happened that led to this mess of a Sarada.

She didn't have to wait long before the blond came in with his characteristic grin looking wider than usual and a certain mischievous tinkle to his eyes. Wasabi pushed all the sugar packs she was arranging before to the floor innocently, like a cat pushing random items off tables.

"Ups," the girl added dramatically as she dragged Sumire to the floor to help her tidy up.

Sumire gave her a slightly judging look but said nothing. She was playing the grownup but Wasabi knew full well she would do exactly the same just to watch this live soap opera unfold; Sumire did love her romances.

Sarada had seen Boruto come in and had instinctively stepped back from the cashier. She then realized her so-called friends dropped a months worth of pack of sugars on the floor; something that she had never seen happen before and that looked strangely coincidental.

Sarada glared at Wasabi that shrugged with the most innocent look she could muster and then pointed at Boruto, who was waiting patiently to make his order.

The dark haired girl sighed quietly and prayed to the gods he wouldn't bring anything unprofessional up. Her eyes met his and he smirked, fully aware of her concerns, and fully prepared to annoy her.

"I will have a caramel latte, one of those muffins and oh- that kiss you owe me."

Sarada eye was visibly twitching as she struggled to regain control of herself and fight back the urge to punch him in the throat.

Whatever packs of sugar Wasabi had returned to the table fell back on the floor as Sumire's head snapped up so fast she knocked the table.

Sarada tried her best to look impassive, "I don't recall owing you anything."

Boruto's eyebrows raised perfectly, "oh, is that so?" He turned to the other two girls, "should I tell you about how Sarada kiss-"

His words were stopped abruptly as Sarada slammed her hand over his mouth. He mumbled something unintelligible and her hand went down to his collar where she guided (i.e.: dragged) him to the small door and to behind the counter. She then informed her colleagues dryly to cover for her absence and opened the door to the back where they kept the stores.

The girl was unsurprisingly strong; Boruto was already struggling slightly to breathe properly by the stage they got to the back and she finally let go of his collar.

He cleared his throat, straightening his shirt, "this seems... unnecessary."

Sarada had her arms crossed over her chest and her face was flaming red. If from embarrassment or anger, the blond couldn't tell. Likely both.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She spoke through gritted teeth. Yesh, she was scary. Boruto rubbed the back of his head, maybe this was not as good of an approach as he thought.

"I think it's not fair that you get to kiss me but not the other way around."

The girl avoided eye contact, "I was drunk and it was reckless."

"You were tipsy and it was fun," Boruto corrected with a comforting smile.

She glanced at him and shook her head, walking past him to unpack some boxes.

"What do you want, Boruto?" She continued unpacking to not have to face him, "an apology?"

Try the exact opposite. The blond shrugged and started reconsidering if this was the best approach; Sarada did not seem to do well with confrontation at all and the prospect of getting beaten up by a martial arts expert did not feel great.

As he did not speak, she continued, "If a kiss is going to keep you quiet and away then fine," she smirked, preparing to add 'you can kiss my ass' as she turned around.

What Sarada failed to consider was the fact that Boruto's brain does not do well under stress and quickly went into emergency mode as soon as she said 'fine'. As such, the blond took this as permission to lean over and kiss her neck in the same spot she had kissed his.

The combination of Boruto's leaning in and Sarada turning around to tease him resulted in their current predicament.

They stood closer than ever, eyes locked, their breaths mingling and lips almost touching. Nor Boruto or Sarada knew exactly what happened next; it was hard to tell which one leaned in first, which one made no effort to move away. Two things, however, were certain: that it was too late to come back now and that neither of them was prepared for it.

It was a light brush of lips, a kiss that barely dared to be called so. It all happened in slow motion; Boruto never imagined such a delicate, phantom touch could feel so intense and real. He could feel her, he could smell her, he could feel her drawing closer; his eyes closed and he knew, like some sort of sixth sense, that Sarada's did the same.

"Guys?" A hesitant voice could be heard on the other side of the door.

They parted almost instantly, eyes snapping open and staring at the door.

"Just checking you haven't murdered him, Sarada, heh," Wasabi laughed with hesitance, as if she was afraid the answer would be 'shut up and help me clean the blood'.

To be continued...