Bloodied Ink [Suna x Fem Reader]

Chapter 1 : You'll have to find me...

Start at '<3 <3 <3' ^

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This is a story like any other.
A story about love.

Well...
In my case,
The lack thereof...

<3 <3 <3

It was some day in the first week of the year 2012,
Where the air was crisp with cold and the streets were soggy with wet snow.

I was sitting in my favourite cozy coffee shop,
Sipping on my vanilla latte with cinnamon and frothed milk,
Watching customers passing in and out of the shop.
Some rushing to work,
Others studying with their friends,
Or couples being all cutesy and stuff.

Ew.

I can't stomach watching them laughing,
Talking about their perfect days,
Their perfect lives...

What is there really to be happy about in these times?

It's cold,
Society sucks,
People are always fake.
Nothing is permanent...

These people acting 'happy' sicken me.

Nothing is real anymore.

Gross.

I open my sketchbook and take out my black pen,
Ready to start another one of my infamous drawings.

I don't even know why people like my stuff.
It's just some therapy projected I started after-

No.

Don't go there Y/n.

We're not about to start crying in public again.

Besides,
This is your day off.
You should at least try not to have a mental breakdown.
At least not in broad daylight.

I click my pen and start drawing,
Lines scratching all over,
Not caring how messy it gets.

Like, why do people like this?
I don't even like it.
It's just my stupid coping mechanism.

People are weird.

The door opens again.

I look up,
Slightly curious about the next fake perfect story to walk in,

But it's not...?

A tall boy,
With seemingly really tired eyes,
Expressionless,
Kind of saddened,
But hiding it?

Why hide it?

Everyone is sad...

I guess I've learned to just not put on a mask for everyday,
Plastering an ingenuine smile to please others?

Worthless.

But he isn't smiling either...

It's almost as if he's trying to seep into the background...

Right there with you bud.

I hate the spotlight,
Despite what my past would say.

There's no point in being in the spotlight.
You'll be there for a month?
A year?
3 at most,
But there's always a crash.
And it's always painful.

And for what?
People to follow you?
To praise you?

Just seems like unnecessary pressure to me.