Formal
(Creative Cruelty)
This drabble contains spoilers.
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The black cocktail dress fits her perfectly, and her make-up is elegant and perfectly done. She walks on the high heels easily – a feat that does not surprise Naruto.
“Are you ready?” she asks, taking in the sight of him in his black suit. She’s pale, but not nervous. Naruto remembers fondly the days when she’d shake in his presence.
“I am,” he replies. “Remember your part, darling.”
“You needn’t worry about me,” she tells him, and the smile on her face does not suit it at all. “You’re not the only special snowflake here anymore, remember?”
“I liked you more before you died,” Naruto reveals, and she lets her cold hand rest on his forearm.
“Is the car ready?”
“It has been for quite a while now.”
“Naruto,” she says then, looking troubled for the first time that day. “Sasuke will be there, won’t he?”
“Yes,” Naruto replies and smiles. “Yes. He will be there.”
“He knows I’m dead.”
Naruto’s grin widens at that – it is his reason for attending this boring, pointless party, decked in an uncomfortable suit of all things. He cannot wait to see Sasuke’s face once he arrives, accompanied by the first woman Sasuke ever killed.
marlowfication 