A/N: WOW. It's been soooo long since I uploaded Part 1 and I'm so sorry to everyone who was waiting for Part 2! I always meant to finish this story, but life got in my way again. I found my way back of course. I've loved writing this too much to give up on it!

It's four days later, and the hospital is eerily silent. At dawn, Sasuke would expect there to be a little more noise, a little more chaos, but there is only peace. No nurses attempt to stop him as he strides purposefully down the corridors, most nodding to him in weary acknowledgement and subtly gesturing him in the right direction. He's still wearing his mission gear, a little more bloodied and dirtied than normal, but this was his first stop upon entering Konoha.

He doesn't get nervous until he's in front of her room door. First, he places his weapons on the waiting bench outside her room, carefully undoing his kunai pouches and unstrapping the katana from his back. Then, he paces. Back and forth, back and forth. This would be the first time he's seen her in nearly four months. Was he ready? Was she? Kakashi had given the team kill orders before sending them out to confront Sakura's captors, but would she be ready to see the blood caked beneath his fingernails?

A frizzy haired nurse stops abruptly as she passes him, swatting him on the arm with a manila folder and gesturing wildly toward Sakura's room. He glowers at her, but she only glowers back with an arched eyebrow until he finally sighs and inches forward, fingers encasing the doorknob and twisting.

She's awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs swinging beneath her, gaze focused on the window and the sun breaching the horizon beyond it. Kami, she's thin, the crisp white hospital gown hanging too loose and revealing the prominent edges of her collarbone, cheekbones sharper than they used to be. But she's fucking beautiful. Her petal pink hair is the slightest bit longer, hanging down her back in tangled waves, eyes as vibrantly green as they ever were. The orange of the rising sun is stark against her pale skin, but it seems to highlight her liveliness, the beautiful rise and fall of her chest.

Life looks so beautiful on her.

It's obvious that she's had copious amounts of visitors. There are flowers in every color settled all around the room, painting it with vibrant pinks, blues, purples, yellows. Someone brought her fuzzy throw blankets from home, stacked atop her bed in mountains. There's pillows and books and magazines and everything that says love lives here.

Sakura turns to him the moment the door creaks and smiles so brilliantly, so easily, that his throat closes up for a moment. Sakura. Sakura. Sakura.

"Sasuke," she whispers almost breathlessly, eyes bright, so bright. "I was wondering when you'd get back."

The Uchiha says nothing for a long moment, and he's trying to remain composed, retain that distance he's used to. But he's tired, so tired. The smile she gives him then is soft and heartbreaking and beckoning, so he moves forward stiffly but without hesitation, dropping to his knees directly between her legs to the floor and burying his face in her stomach. He knows she's surprised because she stiffens for a quick second before relaxing and bending over him, cradling his head in her lap.

He feels her breath brushing over his ears, her fingers twisting in his dark hair, the warmth of skin beneath his fingertips. She doesn't say anything more, and he doesn't try to pretend that his eyes aren't burning just a little.

"Sakura," he begins hoarsely, trailing off to bury his face deeper into her stomach. His throat hurts so much; it's so hard to talk.

"I know," she whispers back, and her voice wavers. Just the sound of it makes him shudder. "It's been a really long time."

He huffs out an amused breath, an almost laugh, and leans back so that he can look up at her. Delicate nose and proud cheekbones. A gentle smile and iridescent eyes. He was wrong; he was never in danger of forgetting her face. This is exactly the way he remembered her. Her green eyes are covered in a mist, but she isn't crying, and despite how her weary form trembles, there is something proud and strong in the set of her spine.

"Yes," Sasuke finally says, "It's been too long."

Sakura touches his face softly, palm pressed to his stubbled cheek, and finally he can breathe.

It's been twenty days, and he can hardly remember them as they fly by. Funny how twenty days of her missing feels like years and twenty days of her presence only feels like hours. Sasuke wants to catch those days between his greedy fingers and hold on just a little longer, wants to savor everything without rush. For once.

"Bye guys!" Sakura calls from her front door. "Hinata, I'll see you for breakfast tomorrow."

She stands on the tips of her toes and waves them away merrily, her baggy t-shirt riding up the flat expanse of her stomach, loose shorts revealing the luscious bottom swell of her ass, messy ponytail swinging across her back. Sasuke suppresses a groan and clenches his fists underneath her kitchen table. Sweet Kami. She hadn't dressed to impress for their lazy Sunday dinner, but she is still the sweetest goddamn thing he's ever seen.

Still smiling, she moves back into the kitchen to put the leftovers in plastic containers, completely comfortable with Sasuke's silent observation. 'It's his thing,' he'd overheard her whisper to Ino with a shrug when the curious blonde asked her about it after their last Sunday dinner. Sasuke hadn't been and still isn't embarrassed by that. Watching her was like breathing, a muscle memory, a reflex.

"I hope Kakashi ate enough," Sakura muses aloud, concern pinching her brows slightly. "You'd think someone running an entire village would have a greater appetite."

Sasuke only grunts. Their former sensei is undoubtedly doing just fine. He doesn't remark that Sakura only ate half of a plate, picking slowly at the food between chatter and laughter, doesn't mention the way she seemed to savor each bite like it was the only one she'd gotten in days. The weight is coming back, though gradually, and so is her energy. Tomorrow is her first day of work back at the hospital, and she is understandably nervous but excited. She continues to grow stronger in each training session, continues to smile up at him blindingly every day he hovers over her. And he hadn't been able to do anything but hover since the first day he'd seen her in the hospital. He is the first person to spar with her at each training session and the last to leave her apartment after dinner. She is a magnet; she is gravity.

Still, despite her progress, Sasuke only grows more restless. A morbid curiosity lingers in the back of his mind, settles at the edge of his tongue. Only Kakashi and Tsunade were present when Sakura gave her full, detailed statement of her time in captivity. Naruto was relieved by that lack of knowledge, Sai rationally understanding, but Sasuke was aching. He had told himself he wouldn't ask, didn't want to know, but he did.

He wants to know why her eyes grow hazy and distant when she's been laughing only moments before. He wants to know why her hands shake sometimes when she heals him after training. He wants to know why there are thick bands on her wrists that are even paler than the rest of her skin.

Finally, Sakura sits at the kitchen table with him, a glass of red wine raised to her lips. She shudders in delight when she takes a sip, and Sasuke hides a smirk. It happens every time she drinks. Sasuke continues to stare at her for a long moment before Sakura lowers her glass and sighs.

"What do you want to know, Sasuke?"

His heart is thundering, and he licks his lips. "Everything. Where did they keep you? And why for so long?"

Sakura takes a long sip and leans back heavily in her chair. Her eyes are clouded. "When they took me, they didn't even blindfold me or knock me out. I knew they didn't plan to let me go." Sasuke's teeth grind together, his fists clenching once more. "They had a base hidden out in the forest, not even two hours from the village, partially underground. Once we got there, they put these leather bracelets on my wrists. Chakra sealers." Sakura ran her hands through her hair, and Sasuke could see her frustration at the very thought. "The leader's younger brother had been poisoned with something incredibly powerful, by the father of a woman he'd wronged I overheard them say. He was being burned alive from the inside, slowly, his organs deteriorating. It was awful. And they needed me to fix him. It was almost impossible work. The chakra I could use was extremely limited, only enough to scan and analyze. They knew the cure to the poison wouldn't come from my own healing abilities; they knew I'd have to create and mix the antidote."

Sakura rose to refill her glass, bare foot tapping restlessly against the kitchen tile. She didn't sit back down and didn't look at him when she spoke, focusing on a spot on the floor.

"They fed me whenever they thought I deserved it, mostly some bread and cheese and soups, and left me to my own devices with a few guards outside the door. It took me a long time to make any progress. They obviously didn't like that, would usually just beat the hell out of me until they thought I got the point." She rubbed her collarbone absently like there was an ache there, and when she continued speaking there was a throatiness to her voice. "I wanted him to die at first. I was so angry. Sometimes, my stomach would ache so much that I couldn't even work on him. After the first month, I wanted to kill him on purpose just to get it over with…but, somehow, he became my patient instead of my enemy. And he was always just lying there in constant pain, always suffering, never conscious. Throwing my all into finding a cure was the only way…the only way I knew how to survive." She took another deep breath. "They were wrong, you know. I needed my chakra to heal him because the poison was chakra based. It fed off it, drew strength from it." Her eyes watered, but her chin was set hard, determined. "I didn't figure it out until my last day there, and I knew I could fix him in just a couple more days. But I was just so tired of waiting for them to come back, waiting for them to beat me half to death again or decide I was useless. I found a scalpel, and I just…I went for it." Another heavy sigh, another shudder. "No chakra for months, none of my strengths that I'm used to. I had to fight hard and dirty. By the time I was done, I could hardly even see through the blood falling over my eyes, but I just kept running. And you know the sad part?" Her hand is trembling, so she puts her wine glass down. "The whole time I was running I couldn't stop thinking about how close I was to saving him. Just a few more days and I would have been successful. He's probably gone now – especially after the team Kakashi sent out – and still all I can think about is how close I was."

Sasuke is silent for a very long moment, overly aware of the way her lips tremble just slightly and she blinks too rapidly. She is…too good. While her situation demanded fury and resentment, she showed compassion. It's almost impossible to understand.

He clears his throat. "Did they hurt you in a way…in a way I can't see?" It's the only way he can word the question, his throat dry and thick.

Sakura's brow scrunches for a moment in a confusion before her eyes widen in understanding. "No! No, no they never touched me like that. Maybe…maybe some of them thought that, but nobody ever acted on it."

Sasuke exhales heavily, feeling almost dizzy from her answer. He doesn't regret asking; he wants to know everything about her there is to know. Despite his roiling rage and anguish, there is nothing else he can do to the people that have harmed her. There is no more revenge to be had. He wants to rage, let the seal have him so he can destroy and hurt and avenge even more. But Sakura is staring at him with wide eyes that are so vulnerable and honest and she is begging him for simplicity. The only thing he can do is give her a sharp nod and a curt, "Okay."

Her face loses some of its tension, relieved he's done with his questions, relieved he understands. "Okay," she says, reclaiming her wine glass with a smile. "Watch a movie with me?"

Later, when Sasuke is watching the glow of the TV flicker across Sakura's face, he can't help but feel awed by the woman sitting next to him, her ability to survive over a hundred days in captivity, fight her way out with only a scalpel and then smile at you on day four of freedom and cook dinner every Sunday after that for her friends.

Sakura must sense his thoughts because she shoots him a grin and snuggles into his side. He wonders if he should tense up and push her away, pretend he doesn't like the way her hair smells and how warm she is against him.

They fall asleep in that position.

Day thirty-six and he's annoyed again.

"Hn."

Sasuke grunts in displeasure when he pushes open Sakura's office door and finds the small room empty save for the medical files that are spilled across her desk and stacked on her small couch. Usually when they met for lunch, she would be waiting outside the hospital for him with a smile, but today she is nowhere to be found. Sasuke had waited for fifteen minutes before huffing and walking inside to question the staff. Nobody had seen her in over an hour and seemed too busy to go on a hunt for her, so they just distractedly waved him off to her office.

The Uchiha rolls his eyes and exits the office. Annoying girl. He's hungry. And now he'll have to suffer through lunch alone with Naruto's incessant talking.

He's only half way down the corridor when he passes a small closet and hears shuffling inside and then a sniffle. Why is someone hiding in a cleaning closet? Without hesitation, he yanks the door open, frowning when all he's met with is a handful of brooms and shelves of towels and cleaning sprays.

"Sasuke?"

Sakura is seated on the floor, white lab coat rumpled, eyes swollen and red, hair falling out of her loose bun. She blinks rapidly and shields her eyes from the sudden light filtering into the dark closet. Reflexively, Sasuke steps into the small space and closes the door behind him, shrouding the pair in darkness. It's silent for a long moment before Sasuke mumbles under his breath and lowers himself to the ground opposite of her. It's an awkward fit; she has to draw her knees up closer to her chest, and he has to place his bent legs on each side of her. His eyes gradually adjust, and the thin slice of light from beneath the door allows him to see the general outline of her features.

"What are you doing in here?"

"I…" Sakura begins with a slightly thick voice, "Um…I was-"

"Why are you crying?" Sasuke demands. Does she do this often, hide away from everyone and break down?

"It's just been…a really long day," she responds with a wet laugh, and he can make out her palms pressed to her eyes.

Sasuke stares absently for a moment. "Why?"

The medic sighs heavily, licking her lips. "I had a poison victim today. Nothing special, nothing I hadn't seen before. He was fine within the hour, but…but he reminded me of him." Her voice is trembling now. "He was just a kid, you know. Couldn't have been more than eighteen. I hate that I still think about him. I hate that I feel guilty for leaving before he was cured. I could have waited just a couple more days…and he would have been fine." Her head tilts back in effort to hold the tears at bay. Sasuke wonders if she's hiding them because he's there. "When I saw the opportunity to escape, I didn't even hesitate. I didn't even spare him a second thought; I just went. I wanted to be free so bad that I was okay with him dying for me to have it. A kid." She covers her mouth with her hands, a strangled sob muffled behind them.

Her sorrow is palpable. He can feel it prickling his own skin, twisting in his stomach. Grief never makes sense. It is never fair. He knows this.

"You survived, Sakura," he finally says, voice steady. "No one can fault you for doing what you had to do."

Her hiccups continue. "Yes, but he was so young!"

"Think about everything we'd done by that age…everything that I'd done," Sasuke counters. "He was one in a group of thieves, rapists, and murderers. They were depraved. We knew what we were doing at that age and so did he. His youth is irrelevant to his innocence. If you had known him before his illness, you wouldn't even feel guilt."

Sakura is quiet now, taking in deep breaths. "I know," she whispers. "But I didn't know him. And it's…it's still hard. I never wanted to be anyone's judge, jury, and executioner."

Sasuke clicks his tongue angrily. Her guilt is undeserved. He wants to assuage it so badly that it makes his skin itch, but he doesn't know if he can. "You weren't. You were his hostage nurse. He condemned himself with his actions. His brother condemned him with his influence. If you had saved him, you probably wouldn't be sitting in this closet right now. An unacceptable trade."

Sakura's eyes are bright across from him, the only shining thing in the dark, and it is silent. One day, Sasuke knows that her guilt will begin to fade, that her recovery will bring out the bad things on the worst days, but she will mend. He just…wants to be there during the process.

"I think I'm going to stay in here for a few more minutes," Sakura finally says with an exhale though she seems calmer.

Sasuke shifts, and his leg presses up against hers. She lets her hand rest absently on his ankle. "Hn. I'll stay in here too then."

He forgets that he's hungry.

Sixty-seven days. Sasuke is aching.

Watching Sakura laugh uproariously over something Sai and Naruto are arguing about makes his throat dry. In the dim lighting of the restaurant, she is shining. The joy in her eyes is pure, the tears of mirth refreshing, the smile fixed on her lips well deserved. After all this time, he is certain that this is the most carefree he's seen her. That ghost that seemed to follow her around for so long is not present, doesn't linger in her eyes or sit on her shoulders. Every part of her that heals also heals him.

Sakura reaches across the table to Sai's plate and steals a dumpling, popping it in her mouth with a satisfied sigh, eyes fluttering closed as she savored each chew.

He really should look away, should at least try not to look like an obsessive stalker or like she's not the only one in the booth with him. But she's…she's so Sakura. He is so enchanted that it begins to hurt.

He can't remember the last time he's wanted something this badly. It's like an ache that simmers right underneath his skin, steals breaths from his own chest, winds restlessly along his bones. Surely, there was a time when his revenge mattered to him this much, but he really can't remember it ever feeling like this. The old Sasuke wasn't used to acknowledging any emotion toward anything. It's almost overwhelming to try and fuse that Sasuke with this one…the one that wants her to the point of pain. He's spent so much time questioning if the two could coexist that he began to fear the answer.

Quieting a sigh of frustration, Sasuke grinds his teeth and clenches his fists beneath the table. Even if he could reconcile those two parts of him…did he even deserve to have her?

A gentle touch lands on his clenched fist. Sakura smiles gently up at him – secretively, like she just knew – and squeezes his fingers, immediately easing the tension she finds there. He holds her gaze for a moment and exhales heavily, but her hand remains on his even when she turns back toward Naruto. He wants to be the type of man who can smile back at her with promise, but he isn't so he simply lets her fingers twine with his. The touch is comforting, an anchor.

When he raises his dark eyes from their joined hands, he catches Kakashi's gaze peeping out over his book. The silver haired nin's face is pulled into a strange expression, his eye missing its usual teasing glint. Sasuke feels like he should understand it, but he's not sure that he does.

The rest of their dinner passes in a blur. There is laughter and merriment, endless chatter and storytelling. Sasuke feels so detached from it all. He feels...like the old Sasuke. He is acutely aware of the fact that he hadn't missed him.

The night is cool and quiet as he accompanies Sakura on her walk home. There is no talk to fill the silence between them, just the hum of the night bugs and soft song of the wind. Sakura seems unaffected by this, smiling softly and letting her shoulder nudge his arm playfully as they walk. The streets are empty of people, the sky full of silently glittering stars.

When they stop in front of her door, she leans her head back to look up at him, and Sasuke is – once again and unsurprisingly – overwhelmed by the vibrant green of her eyes. His hand moves forward of its own accord to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, and she presses her cheek into his palm just slightly. He leans forward, pressing his chest to hers, their lips separated by mere centimeters. Their breath mingles for a second, and he lets his fingers scrunch desperately at the back of her blouse.

He wants to so badly, wants to get lost in that exquisite feel of her mouth once again, but he can't. For the first time in his life he curses his self-control.

Sakura, standing on the tips of her toes, smiles sadly and puts her hand on top of his where it still rests on her cheek.

"Sasuke," she begins softly and then pauses to take a deep breath. "No one gets to tell me what I deserve. Just me. And I want you. It's that simple." His breath catches somewhere in his chest, his fingers fist harder in her shirt. "I know why you're hesitating. And maybe…maybe this isn't about me deserving better; maybe it's about you thinking that you don't. But if you need time to convince yourself of the opposite, I understand." She leans forward and brushes her lips against his just slightly, and she gives him back the breath that stuttered in his chest. "I just want you to know that I'm ready. I've been ready for a long time."

There is a soft glimmer of tears in her eyes as she pulls away and heads into her apartment, the door clicking shut softly behind her. He puts his hands on both sides of the door frame, leaning his forehead against the door and exhaling heavily. He stays there for several long moments.

He doesn't understand why, after wanting her so desperately for so long, something makes him hesitate.

On day eighty-eight, Sasuke realizes that thing that made him falter, that coldness clenching in his stomach, was fear.

He was afraid when he was a child and his family was just gone and he was alone. He was afraid when he was much older and he finally found out the truth and his brother died anyway.

And now he's a man and he watches Sakura move about the bar with life and laughter, and he realizes he isn't just scared…he is terrified. He is terrified because he's never done this before. There have been women – fast and easy and forgotten – but there has never been another Sakura. There has never been this fullness in his chest that is raw and exhilarating and powerful all at once. There has never been this person that haunts his every thought and every breath, his favorite ghost breathing life back into him.

Across the floor, Sakura twirls around to the song playing overheard, bouncing around Ino and Tenten in a flurry of pink and green. The smile on her face is wide and bright, her cheeks dusted a healthy pink, and he can practically feel her laughter from where he is sitting. She is so bright and carefree, so similar but so different than the girl she was before her kidnapping. There's a resoluteness in her spine that wasn't there before, a sort of somber intelligence that lingers in the darker flecks of green in her eyes. But she is so strong and so lively and still so sweet that it makes his chest burn. He is so fucking proud of her.

The song switches to something with a slower tempo, and Sakura stops in the middle of the dance floor, catching his eye immediately. Her chest heaves up and down, pink waves a mess as they tumble down her shoulders, and her gray dress clings to her lithe figure in the all right places. A flush lights up her cheeks and spreads down to her chest, and she smiles shyly at him, like she's flustered by the intensity of his gaze. He bites back a groan when his cock hardens instantly but doesn't try and pretend like he isn't staring. This isn't like the last time they were here. There couldn't be any pretending at this point.

A few new arrivals break their connection, rushing up to her to wish her a happy birthday with gusto, and Sasuke hides the way his lips quirk upward when she glances back over her shoulder at him, wide-eyed and still blushing.

"Are you two finally going to do something about this sexual tension? I'm not sure how much longer I can watch it go on." Kakashi's almost bored sounding voice breaks Sasuke's concentration.

Stupid old man. "Then don't watch," Sasuke grits out, glaring at his former sensei, whose eyes are alight with mischievousness.

"I don't know if I'm proud or disappointed," Kakashi continued, leaning leisurely against Sasuke's table. "You've held back for so long I started to question if you wanted her at all. But then I see they way you follow her like a lost puppy and there's no way you don't want her when she's in that dress-"

"Kakashi," Sasuke growled warningly, his fists beginning to curl and tighten. His former sensei was watching Sakura dance a little too fucking closely.

The silver haired man only grins beneath his mask, his one visible eye crinkling at the corner, but doesn't say anything more for a long moment. The two are silent, Sasuke returning his attention to Sakura, who is now standing off to the side with Naruto. She snuggles tiredly into his side, accepting his friendly hug as the speak quietly to one another. Naruto's face is serious but his eyes kind as he murmurs affectionately into her hair. The pinkette's eyes slip closed at something he says, a brief look of pain passing over her face before a soft smile turns her lips upward again.

"Don't you think she's waited long enough?" Kakashi asks. The copy-nin's face is impassive, but his eye shines with affection as it gazes upon Sakura. "Haven't you?"

Sasuke is struck into silence as Kakashi pats him on the shoulder and glides over to join Naruto and Sakura. She has openly wanted him since they were children, and he has wanted her for…probably longer than he's capable of recognizing. They have paid their dues ten times over. Is this finally theirs to have?

It's hours later that the party dies down, and Sasuke walks side by side with a cheerful Sakura, his arms laden with gifts that friends have showered her with. It's nearing three in the morning, but Sasuke feels no inkling of fatigue as he keeps stride with the petite girl. She is smiling widely, green eyes alive with happiness as she swings the two gift bags Sasuke had allowed her to carry, and she is so colorful it nearly blinds him. For a moment, he thinks of the girl in the hospital bed, thin and pale and tired. They are hardly the same people. But they are both so, so beautiful.

Her apartment is quiet when she unlocks the door, only the hum of the refrigerator and crinkling of wrapping paper breaking up the silence. With a blithe smile, she takes each gift from his arms and settles it onto the kitchen table, running a grateful a hand across a sparkling purple bow adorning a silver wrapped gift.

...something is building in Sasuke's chest, something tight but buoyant, something that steals his breath for a second and gives it back so viciously. If he doesn't move, doesn't do something right now, then he thinks he'll never forgive himself, and there are so many other things he is still trying to forgive himself for. He realizes he's finally making a choice, and he chooses her.

Because he's finally decided he doesn't give a damn if he deserves her or not. She wanted him, and he wanted her. For once in his life he was going to let something be that easy.

It's like she's completely aware of what he's thinking because she turns to face him just as he strides toward her, green eyes wide and maybe a little nervous but bright, bright, bright.

Kissing her is nostalgic, like the smell of Sunday mornings as a child when you managed to wake up in time to catch the scent of dew on the grass, like the comfort of a warm blanket and a comfortable chair on a lazy Saturday. Kissing her is like home.

She accepts him immediately, opening her mouth to his so that his tongue can glide sensually against hers. One hand fists in her wavy strands, while the other locks around her waist, pulling her so close that she can't take a breath without him feeling it. Her body curls into his, soft breasts pressed against his hard chest, hips pulled magnetically together. His lungs burn for breath, but he can't stop, wants to keep drawing those soft gasps of pleasure from her mouth. Her fingers tangle in the longer strands of his hair that rest against his neck, a small bite of pain twinging when she tugs at them, his cock straining against his pants, hard and insistent.

They move. Her small hands are underneath his shirt, fingernails grazing his abs and making him shiver, drawing the fabric up and over his head. He wants to be soft, gentle, slow, but she only pulls at him when he lessens his heavy touch, and he's pressing her hard against her bedroom door before he can stop himself. He likes the way she gasps at his teeth nipping her earlobe, likes the weight of her breasts in his palms once he unzips the dress and lets it puddle at her feet.

She tugs him toward the bed by the band of his pants, nimble fingers already working at his zipper, and he can't let this end too quickly, can't let this end like the last time.

Gripping her beneath the curve of her ass, he lifts her and tosses her onto the bed. She giggles when she bounces, wavy stands of hair flying across her face, naked skin so beautiful against the pale blue sheets, breasts bouncing so enticingly his mouth waters. He's on top of her before she can laugh again, his mouth taking hers fiercely, calloused hands traveling up the smooth length of her thighs, fingers dipping beneath the bands of her underwear.

His lips close over a nipple, and she trembles so violently beneath him, he only rolls that puckered bud harder between his teeth and grips the smooth skin of her ass tighter, bringing her cunt closer against his covered cock. They grind hard against one another as his lips work her into a frenzy, her toned legs bending up near her waist so she can push his pants down his hips with her toes.

Her skin against his is so fucking perfect, and he buries his head against her neck and inhales deep. Lavender. Spring. Sakura. Home.

Impatiently, he dips his finger to her center, feeling the wetness that has gathered there for several moments before he pushes a finger inside. She gasps, arching into him. "Sasuke, I'm ready now. We don't need to wait. Please."

Her desperate words give him a momentary pause. It's obvious that she's ready, but maybe he isn't. Maybe he's the one that needs it slow. Ignoring her, he continues to work her with his fingers, slipping two inside her as his thumb expertly rolls over her clit. She's mewling and gasping, fingers clutching desperately in the sheets, hips bucking beneath him. He moves his lips along her throat, her shoulders, graze over the shell of her ear. When she finally comes, he kisses her desperately, trapping her moans inside his body to keep forever.

It takes a moment for her to gather her wits again, and the way her eyes open all half-lidded and dreamy makes his chest expand until it's so, so full it hurts. Her small hands glide along his hips and down to his eager, throbbing erection. He grunts when she closes her fist around him, thumb spreading around the precum gathered at this tip. She works him up and down for a bit, and he lets her, his head falling into the crook of her neck as the pleasure slithers down his spine. Then, she's guiding him to her entrance, eyes lit up with pleasure and want. He slides into her easily, all the way to the hilt, and wonders if it hurt her last time. If he had prepared her enough, been gentle enough. He aches with the thought that he might not have been.

He doesn't move for a long moment, simply basks in the exquisite feel of her tight heat around him. Sakura finally spurs him into movement by digging her hells into his ass, undulating her hips into his. Finally, he moves. Their chests are pressed flush together as he hits deep but slow, her nipples dragging against his bare chest with every thrust. He keeps the pace steady, and she's tossing her head back desperately on the bed, scattering pink all over the place, begging him 'Please, Sasuke, harder. Please, more.'

Her breathy please are heavy in his ear, her face pinched into a pained expression. He wants so badly to make this last forever, but he feels delirious with his want – need – for her. Before he can stop himself, his hips are snapping furiously against hers, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. She feels like silk and heat and perfection around him, and he groans as he feels his balls tighten to the point of pain. Dropping his weight almost completely onto her, he buries his face in her neck and sucks small bruises into the skin there. She's gasping and moaning and crying out, hiking her knees up higher around his waist, holding onto his shoulders helplessly as he rides her into oblivion. She finally comes with a silent scream, head tossed back and eyes screwed shut. When he comes, his entire vision whites out, and he swears he loses consciousness for a moment.

They stay wrapped around each other for long after that, naked and quiet. When Sakura finally looks up at him with those jade eyes so bright and open and fucking beautiful, Sasuke feels something settle into place inside him.

A ball of emotion catches in his chest. How could he have ever been afraid of this?

Day ninety-five and there is peace. And only a few ghosts.

It's late morning, and they haven't gotten out of bed yet. He'd woken this morning and wanted her so badly that he woke her with his head between her thighs, his tongue bringing her to orgasm. Then, he'd rolled her pliant body over so that she was laying on her stomach, his face buried in the side of her neck as he fucked her leisurely from behind. Now, they lay together quietly, him lying on his stomach between her thighs, his head resting on her stomach as she absentmindedly brushed her fingers through his dark hair. He is sated and content, basking in the soft, warm glow of the sun as it pours through her bedroom window.

Being with Sakura is so easy. He thinks it's a little weird how smoothly they slipped from…whatever they were and into this relationship. It's the easiest thing he's ever done. Touching the small of her back, smoothing his hand down her hair, untangling from her naked body in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. They fit together better than a puzzle, better than a lock and key. They're like two different liquids just flowing into each other, swirling and blending effortlessly until they're one.

With her, he feels like he can finally breathe. Her brightness provides him with a levity he's unused to; her love comes with no conditions. But at the same time…her goodness makes him question his own sins. He doesn't want to think about them so much, but he does. When her heart is laid open for him in her eyes, in her touch, all of the way's he's ever hurt her float to the surface, and he's never wanted to turn back time more than in those moments.

A soft touch to his cheek gets his attention, and he turns his gaze upward to meet her clear gaze. She wiggles out from under him so that they're both laying on their sides facing each other. The gentle touch of her fingertips traces his mouth and then his nose, her expression so beautiful and soft.

"I shouldn't have left. The morning after we first had sex. I know you feel guilty because you think you abandoned me…but I abandoned you first." Dark pink lashes flutter rapidly against her pale skin, and she swallows visibly. "I don't know what would have happened that next morning, but I was too scared to find out, so I left you before you could react. I know you want to take full responsibility for withdrawing from the mission, but I influenced that decision. I helped you make that choice, and I need you to stop blaming yourself. You're not the reason any of this happened to me."

Sasuke takes hold of her hand and presses her fingertips to his lips. Her viridian gaze is watery, pleading with him to let free his ghosts. The sigh he releases comes from a deep, untouched place within him. It doesn't feel right to do what she's asking but…if this is the way to move on then he'll do it. Whatever it takes to make her happy, he'll do it.

"Okay," he says quietly, and his chest hurts and his eyes burn, but his spirit feels light. Did he really have the right to deny his own absolution when she was handing it to him?

She smiles that soft, understanding, electrifying Sakura smile and moves to kiss him, tangling her fingers in his inky black locks. A booming knock sounds on the door right when he's moving his lips down her throat, and he curses while she groans in dismay, dropping his forehead into the base of her throat. Reluctantly, he disentangles his body from hers, yanks on a pair of sweats, and stomps to the front door.

Naruto stands grinning on the other side, hands clasped behind his back and rocking back and forth on his heels. "Answering Sakura's door half-naked now, huh?" he asks smugly. "And here I thought you were trying to keep this whole thing on the down-low." He shoulders his way inside, Sasuke grumbling and glaring behind him. "It's not working by the way. Half of Konoha and probably all of our friends know what you two have been up to."

Sasuke slams the door. "It's not a secret, Idiot. We're just enjoying time to ourselves."

Naruto ignores him, making a beeline for the bedroom, and Sasuke practically throws himself after him, aware of Sakura's state of undress when he'd left the room. When the two stumble into the room, Sasuke with his arm raised to trap Naruto in a headlock, he's relived to see that she had pulled on his shirt and a pair of her pajama shorts, sitting in the middle of the bed with her legs crisscrossed when they appear.

"Naruto!" She laughs when the blond throws himself at her, tackling her to the bed in a tight hug. The pair laugh for a long time, wrestling playfully and attempting to tickle each other. Sasuke leans against the doorframe, silent but watching with the tiniest upward tilt of his mouth.

Finally, they part and Naruto sits up, glancing from him to Sakura for several long moments. There's something soft and blissful in his expression.

"I'm getting married in less than a month," he finally announces proudly, and a barely-there mist blankets his sky-blue eyes as they dart between the both of them. He grabs Sakura's hand and pulls it to his chest, and his smile is so, so wide. "And I'm so glad you're going to be here for it. Both of you. I thought for a moment that you wouldn't…that we wouldn't all be there together." A quivering inhale. "And I'm so happy. So happy. This is the way it was always meant to be."

Sakura laughs tearfully, laughs and laughs and laughs until the tears finally drip from her eyes and onto her cheeks, and she launches herself into Naruto's arms. They hold each other tight, and even if they're both crying, their smiles never actually disappear. That ball of emotion that Sasuke's become so accustomed to surges up in his chest and expands until he almost can't breathe. It's a good feeling.

There aren't any ghosts in here.

Naruto and Hinata's wedding is nice – beautiful, magical, Sakura had gasped – but he'll only admit that it was nice. The ceremony is brief but sweet (he can admit that much), and Hinata is stunning in her gown. Sakura holds his hand so tight during the vows that he's pretty sure he fractured some bones, but the serene, moved expression on her face is worth any pain.

Afterward, the reception party picks up quickly, and there are glasses of wine and champagne being passed around generously, music and laughter filling any spaces of silence.

It's been a good time so far. He has a decent buzz developing, and the food was excellent so he's full and satisfied. There has been a handful of light but meaningful conversations – he and Naruto and Sai, he and Kakashi, a surprising though somewhat stilted conversation with Neji. He even got a weird nod of understanding (approval, encouragement?) from Kiba, but he cares very little about that because seriously…fuck that guy.

For now, Sasuke is content sitting a table nursing his own glass, sipping quietly as his eyes trail Sakura on the dance floor. Stunning, she's just stunning. She's twirling around with Ino and TenTen, her long gold gown smattering sparkle all around her, a mass of pink curls tumbling somewhat wild across her back. There's a healthy pink flush in her cheeks, and he's pretty sure that's from the four – yes, Sakura, I'm pretty sure you've had more than two – glasses of champagne she's drunk so far. The trio of girls is dancing and giggling in the middle of the dance floor, recruiting unwitting guests to join them, taking Hinata hostage whenever they can, singing along very loudly to every song they know.

She's happy. So is he.

He's a little intense in his observation of her – he knows this – but sometimes he just can't believe this is real. He doesn't know how to love another person this way, so most of the time he's not sure he's even doing it right. It terrifies him that he could be getting it wrong, could mess it up one day, but he's going to do it every day for the rest of his life, and he's never going to let her go.

Something about his expression draws her away from the dance floor, and she's gliding his way a little breathlessly, her dress lifted just slightly in one hand, her expression bright.

"Dance with me?" she asks, grabbing both of his hands and tugging him up. He goes without a fight, glad that a slow song has replaced the upbeat song from just seconds ago. When they're in place, she drapes both arms across the back of his neck and leans the side of her face against his. Naruto wiggles his eyebrows at them where he's dancing with his new bride, and Sasuke is obligated to roll his eyes back at him.

For a long moment, they're quiet, peaceful.

Sasuke inhales deeply, pressing his face into her hair. "One-hundred and fourteen days."

"Why do you keep count?" she asks softly after a moment, her fingers comfortably caressing the back of his head.

He doesn't answer immediately because he's not sure he wants to. While he's a different person entirely when they're together, there are still parts of him that he has a hard time sharing. When the moment of silence becomes too long, Sakura leans back slightly to look him in the eye, her eyes expectant and encouraging but not pushy. She's so open and so honest; he'll never stop wishing he could be just like her.

"When you were gone," he mutters, tightening his hands around her waist. "I was afraid that it would never end. Now, I'm afraid it will."

The looks she gives him is understanding and pained and loving all at once. He's weird, and Sakura doesn't judge him for even a second. He loves her more for it.

"Oh Sasuke," she breathes against his lips, smiling. "It won't."

Her response is perfect, and he kisses her deep and hard and so full of everything he's ever felt for her that he's pretty sure her knees tremble a little. Their bodies are pressed together so, so tight. He loves the way her heart beats against his chest. Forever isn't something he is familiar with; he's never been able to see that far. But Sakura…she makes his sight almost endless.

On day one-hundred and fourteen, Sasuke thinks he should just stop counting.

A/N: Thanks for reading! :)