Sasuke is an enigma to many people. Understanding him requires sympathy of past circumstances and acknowledgement that who he is as a man was not of his doing.
He is the way he is, and he quit questioning that quite some time ago.
“Go on.” A throaty chuckle leaves his throat, and he tilts his head a little, raven strands tickling along the smirk. The choice is entirely hers; asshole or not, he certainly would never force another into the bedroom.
He wanted her willing; eager. For her, this might be curiosity of the past, but to him, she’s an avenue he has only been recently considering.
The door is wide open.
“I won’t be hurt if you decline, you know.”
While he waits for the answer, he shifts in his pocket for his cigarettes.
She wonders why he’s being like this with a small frown denting her forehead. Her emotions were getting the better of her and she knew it. What kind of shinobi was she to let her feelings have so much pull over her, anyways.
She frowns momentarily at the thought as his smooth and rich voice flutters against her hair.
Though she hadn’t looked up at him yet- she couldn’t bring herself to- she could practically hear the smirk on his lips.
“Of course I know that…” She said meekly, her voice coming out in a squeak. In reality she didn’t know what she wanted to do. She told him no already, but the moment he threatened to walk away, she felt her nerves set fire with fear.
“Sasuke-kun I…” Her words died out like a weak fire. I’m afraid that you’re going to hurt me.
She finally tilted her chin to peer up at him, attempting to keep the weariness of his mocking nature from her expression.