Fifty Shades of Sasuke [Sasuke Uchiha X Reader]

Chapter Twelve

"I don't doubt it. Why haven't you asked me to call you by your first name?" I'm surprised by my audacity. Why is this conversation suddenly so serious? Surely, this is not going the way I thought it was going to go. I'm feeling so inimically toward him. Almost as if his whole self is kind of warning me off.
"The only people who use my given name are my family and a few of my close friends. That's how I like it best."
Oh. He still hasn't said "Call me Sasuke." He is a control freak, there's no other explanation, and a part of me is thinking that it'd have been better if Rin interviewed him. Two control freaks together. Could be a blockbuster movie. Besides, Rin has planned to dye her hair blonde anyway; that would definitely fit with Mr. Uchiha's taste in blonde and beautiful. Yeah, she's beautiful. Way prettier than me, if the attribute of being pretty - let off beautiful - even suits me. I am so plain, normal [eye color] colored eyes, and hay like [hair color] hair. Without doubt, not his taste. But still, I don't like the idea of Rin and Sasuke. I take a sip of my tea, and Uchiha eats another small piece of his sandwich.
"Are you an only child?" he asks.
Whoa . . . he keeps changing the topic.
"Yes."
"Tell me about your parents."
Why does he want to know this? My family is not special, I am not special. Is there something that makes me interesting in his eyes?
"My mom lives in the west part of Kirigakure; you know her, of course you do, you invest in her school after all," I laugh a little, but stop abruptly as I see his intimidating, onyx gaze on me. It says one word. Continue. "She lives there with her new husband, Jinpachi. My stepdad lives in Ishigakure."
"Your father?"
"My father died when I was a baby."
"I'm sorry," he mutters, and a fleeting, troubled look comes over his face. I smile a little at him. "There's no need to apologize, I don't remember him. Besides, it's like he's not even my father, though I know he is . . . it's complicated."
He nods, his eyes staring into mine. "And your mother remarried?"
I snort.
"You could say that."
He frowns at me. "You're not giving much away, are you?" he says dryly, rubbing his chin as if in deep thought.
Suddenly, there's some confidence coming toward me. I lean over, my elbows on the table. My eyes look deeply at him. "Neither are you."
What is happening with me? Am I flirting with Mr. Uchiha?
Sasuke copies my movements, and our faces are inches apart. "You've interviewed me once already, and I recollect some quite probing questions then." He smirks at me.
Holy shit. He's remembering the "gay" question. Once again, I'm mortified. In years to come, I know I'll need intensive therapy to not feel this embarrassed every time I recall the moment. I start babbling about my mother - anything to block that memory from entering my line of thinking.
"My mom is wonderful. She's an incurable romantic. Her new husband is actually her fourth marriage."
Sasuke raises his eyebrows in surprise.
"I miss her, though we only live a few miles apart," I continue. "But she has Jin now. I just hope he can keep an eye on her and pick up the pieces when her harebrained schemes don't go as planned." I smile fondly. Sasuke is watching me intently, taking occasional sips of his coffee. I really shouldn't look at his mouth. It's unsettling.
"Do you get along with your stepfather?"
"Of course. I grew up with him. He's the only father I know."
"And what's he like?"
"Kisame? He's . . . taciturn."
"That's it?" Uchiha asks, surprised.
I shrug. What does this man expect from me? My life story?
"Taciturn like his stepdaughter," Sasuke prompts.
I refrain from rolling my eyes at him.
"He likes soccer - European soccer especially - and swimming, and fly-fishing, and making swords. He's owner of a Dojo. Ex-army."
I sigh.
"You lived with him?"
"Yes. My mom met Husband Number Three when I was fifteen. I stayed with Kisame."
He frowns as if he doesn't understand me.
"You didn't want to live with your mom?" he asks.
This really is none of his business.
"Husband Number Three lived in Kumogakure. My home was in Kirigakure. And . . . you know, my mom was newly married." I stop. My mom never talks about Husband Number Three. Where is Uchiha going with this? This is none of his business. Two can play at this game, my friend.
"Tell me about your parents," I tell him, my little demand, or question.
He shrugs.
"My dad's a lawyer, my mom is a pediatrician. They live in Konohagakure."
Oh . . . he's had an affluent upbringing. ANd I wonder about a successful couple who adopts three kids, and one of them turns into a beautiful man who takes on the business world and conquers it single-handed. What drove him to be like that? His family and friends must be proud.
"What do your siblings do?"
"Obito's in construction, and Itachi is in Paris, studying cookery under some renowned French chef." His eyes cloud with irritation, and when he mentions the name "Itachi" there's a somewhat darker and more dangerous look in his eyes. He doesn't like talking about his family, especially not about this Itachi, nor does he like talking about himself.
"I hear Paris is lovely," I murmur, trying to change the subject. Why doesn't he want to talk about his family? Is it because he's adopted?
"It's beautiful. Have you been there?" he asks, his irritation forgotten.
"I've never left my precious Japan." So now we're back to banalities. What's he hiding?
"Would you like to go?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Where to? To Paris?" I squeak. This has thrown me - who wouldn't want to go to Paris? "Of course," I concede. "But it's England that I'd really like to visit."
he cocks his head to one side, running his index finger across his lower lip. That looks so . . . attracting.
"Because?"
I blink rapidly. Concentarte, [last name]!
"It's the home of Shakespeare, Austen, the Brontë sisters, Thomas Hardy. I'd like to see the places that inspired those wonderful people to write even more wonderful books."
All this talk about British literature reminds me that I should be at home, studying for my exams, instead of staring at Mr. Perfect. I glance at my watch. "I'd better go. I have to study."
"For your exams?"
"Yes, they start Thursday."
"Where's Miss Nohara's car?"
"In the hotel parking lot."
"I'll walk you back."
"Thank you for the tea, Sa- Mr. Uchiha," I correct myself.
He smiles his mysterious and provoking smile at me. Now I really want to find out his big secret-
"You're welcome, [name]. It's my pleasure. Come," he commands, and holds his hand out to me. I take it, bemused, and follow him out of the café.
We stroll back to the hotel; there's a comfortable silence. After so much talking I am really glad that I have time to collect my thoughts. Though I enjoyed his presence, and the mere fact that I could admire him from very near, are advantages, but most of the time it was a big interrogation, like a job interview. At least the feeling in my tummy was the same.
"Do you always wear jeans?" he asks out of the blue, making me flinch a little bit.
"Mostly." What an awkward question . . .
he nods. We're back at the intersection, across the road from the hotel. And I'm aware that out time together is limited. Only a few minutes . . . and I perhaps will never see him again. My eyes - unnoticeable for Uchiha - widen. This is it. This was it, and I've completely blown it, I know. Maybe he already is with someone.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" I blurt out. Holy crap - did I just say that out loud?
His lips quirk up in a half smile, and he peers down at me.
"No, [name]. I don't do the girlfriend thing," he says softly.
Oh . . . wait, what does that mean? He's not gay. Oh, maybe he is! He must have lied to me in his interview. What if that blond guy in the picture - well, that would be interesting. For a moment I think he's going to follow up with some explanation, some clue to his confusing statement - but he doesn't. I have to go. I have to try to reassemble my thoughts. I have to reassemble my thoughts. I need to get away from him. He's just a . . . distraction. I walk forward, and I trip, stumbling headlong into the road.
"Shit, [namr]!" Sasuke cries out. He tugs the hand that he's holding so hard that I fall back against him just as a cyclist whips past, narrowly missing me, heading the wrong way up this one-way street.
It all happens so fast - one minute I'm falling, the next I'm in his arms and he's holding me tightly against his chest. I inhale his clean, wholesome chest. He smells of fresh laundered linen and some expensive body wash. It's intoxicating. I inhale deeply.
"Are you okay?" he whispers. One of his arms is around me, clasping me to him, while the fingers of his other hand softly traces my face, gently probing , examining me. His thumb brushes my lower lip, and his breath hitches. He's staring into my eyes, and I hold his anxious, burning, onyx gaze for a moment, or maybe it's forever . . . but eventually my attention is drawn to his beautiful mouth. And for the first time in twenty-one years, I want to be kissed. And only by the one and only Uchiha Sasuke.

* Obito is for the sake of Obito X Rin Sasuke's brother, OKAY!?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: *whispers* shameless self-advertisement LOL. Follow me on Twitter because I just made myself an account. It's @ Ayatoaster or alternatively I also have an instagram @ bacon_puma lmao, okayy, I hope you liked the chapter!