Chapter 5

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"Rui, who do you see now, Sasuke or Naruto?"

The man in leather jacket and metal chains hanging off random pockets stalked forward in loose, ripped jeans. Smirking an Uchiha smirk, blond hair catching and reflecting the room light, he crossed the room, sat down beside me on the bed and drew out a rose from his back. I giggled, delighted and delirious from several shots of vodka, accepted the plastic, white rose and put it to my nose.

"Why white, of all things?" I frowned, struggling to remember what white stood for. White rose...

"Because it is the purest colour," he whispered, fingers brushing my chin.

"You behave like Sasuke, but the things you say sound like Naruto, make up your mind," I said with a hiccup. I was dimly aware of something wet on my face; ever since Itachi rejected me, I have been spending more and more time in the dim nightclubs with the doppelganger to ease the pain, but lately, it feels like I've had one too many hangovers, memory lapse and the awkwardly familiar soreness on my body.

"Hey babe, you're beautiful," Sasuke whispers with the same silky, deep voice as warm hands creep under my shirt. I pushed them away gently, and set down my cup.

"Sorry, not tonight," I tugged my shirt back down and laid on the queen-sized bed, facing away from him.

***

"Sorry, not tonight," I tugged my shirt back down and laid on the queen-sized bed, facing away from him. I heard Sasuke get off the bed, then the room turned dark and two arms wrapped around my comfortably.

"As you wish, my queen," he breathed and soon, we were both sleeping.

***

"What? Not tonight?" he whined. This wasn't either of them.

"No, sorry," I muttered, sleep threatening to pull me under. White rose...

"Look at me. I need a reason," his nails dug into my shoulder and turned me over. Who's this?

"You're not allowed to say no to me," he growled, forcing me to sit up, his grip on my shoulder now painful. There was a sudden flash of white, and I could see astonishment on his aristocratic face as my eyes cleared from the depressing fog that clouded it for a month.

"No means no, boy," I scowled, but secretly glad that the pain allowed my vision to clear.

"Oh, the rose grew thorns," he remarked in a mocking voice, "but that doesn't mean you can keep the gardener away."

"Get off me you pig," I screamed as his mouth forcefully attached itself my neck and hands held me down.

"You're mine, even your boyfriend's brother agreed,"

"No he didn't you scum! He rejected us."

"Well, that's his loss."

Throughout that night, I had frantically wished that I had never woken up from my sleepwalking.

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