The night's air is cool, in contrast to Sasuke's hand, as he guides you out your balcony, his touch firm yet gentle.

“Should I greet your dad?” he jokes in a whisper, the usual smirk on his face but no real distance in his gaze. You can tell he's trying to brighten your mood up—after all, sneaking out is not exactly the most comfortable thing to you. Specially because of the scolding that awaits you if your parents find out.

Your parents—your father, especially—would disapprove of you being here with him. To them, he’s a player, a bad influence, a distraction. Someone they should protect you from. But you know better. Better, as someone your age could convince themselves they do.

Arriving at the same usual spot, you can feel his presence closing the space between you, his gaze unwavering.

He steps closer, his hand brushing against yours with the same familiarity, the same spark of a touch you’ve come to expect. You know the drill. And yet, the question lingers.

"So, Juliet, how far should I go tonight?" He questioned, love dripping from his voice. "Ah, but you hate that name, don't you..?" With an apologetic chuckle, he added, as he lifted one hand to stroke your cheek. His mind runs wild with underlying doubts—but he's determined not to let this be a tragedy. The bell's ringing doesn't mean a thing to him.