Honeysuckle
Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto.
Wrote this in one go so excuse my errors.
Life, as Sasuke mused, was an amalgam of normalcy and disruption but it was the simplicity of things that left an everlasting impression on you. Like the slight upturn of your wife's lips as she saw you return home while she hung the laundry, hands coming to a halt on a piece of clothing, her small footsteps shrinking the distance between them, laundry basket lying forgotten behind them. The anticipation of seeing her after a long mission always accompanied the dread of her not being there; too good she was for him, after all. But he pushed the unwanted emotion to the back of his mind and saved it for another day, another mission, another return because, at the moment, she's there and that's all that mattered.
It wasn't love, it wasn't adoration either or simple likability - though somewhere in his heart, she did own a place - it was just the fact that she's all he's got and several miles away from Konoha, the place he hated yet cared for because you just can't hate home even if you can't even call it that, and away from everything that defined civilization; she was the only one waiting for him.
And as she drew near and he became more than a lavender blur against a blue and grey backdrop, an "I'm home" slipped his lips effortlessly and he allowed his shoulders to finally sink and weariness to finally claim him because now, he could sleep.
But of course, knowing Hinata and her overwhelming motherliness, there was no going to bed (or futon in their case) with an empty stomach. So, after he had scrubbed a month-long grime off his body and slipped into fresh set of clothes and awaited Hinata's return from the realm of 'kitchen' under their kotatsu, eyes heavy with sleep and the calmness of his surroundings singing him a silent lullaby. The dull sizzle from the other side of door and the aroma blanketing their small house, however, was enough to keep him sitting up beneath the warmth of the table. Winter was upon them and although the afternoons were pleasant, with the sun still plentiful but with a slight chill to the air; nights were long and cold.
Hinata emerged from the kitchen donning a mismatched pair of socks - one green and polka dotted and the other lined with pink strips - summoning a smile to his face. Perceptive as ever, her eyes didn't miss the small tug at his lips, painting her face in crimson. "I washed the other pair." She pouted and set the food down before him, nothing extravagant just a simple serving of boiled rice and curry though Hinata's cooking would make up for the lack of color.
Sasuke hadn't realized how hungry he was until the food touched his lips and only when he got a couple of mouthfuls down his throat was he able to respond to her. "You could borrow mine."
"They're too big." She defended as she helped him a second serving of rice.
"Buy new ones."
"I'm saving money." Sasuke looked up at her briefly, the morsel suddenly too big for him to swallow. He scanned the tiny living room they sat in; taking in the paint chipping at several places on the wall, the second-hand kotatsu that he had fixed three times now and the lack of a metal band around her ring finger. Everything was suddenly suffocating and he pushed the food away.
Realizing her error, she quickly tried to elaborate, "Well I was thinking of extending the house. Another bedroom perhaps and maybe buy a few things for my garden. The market is too far away and I was thinking that I'd grow some vegetables to save me the trouble of walking all the way there and some herbs for my ointments and you like my ointments, right? "
He still avoided her gaze despite her pushing the bowl in his hand. He had dragged her into this hell with him - the Hyuuga princess - who always wore finest clothes, and resided in largest estate of Konoha and always ate delectable foods. Not this unsavory rice and watery curry.
He should've never agreed to the elders' suggestion, should never have acted out of selfishness and married her to disperse his loneliness when he could hardly take care of himself. With his property confiscated for his criminal background, measly wage and a cottage of a house, far away from the village because he wouldn't find cheaper land; he was hardly making the ends meet. He had not offered her a ring; their marriage had been a simple contract on a paper with the Hyuugas too eager to discard her because she didn't meet their standards. She had cried herself to sleep on their wedding night, claiming that this was the only way she could save her younger sister from the seal and he had seen glimpses of Itachi in her tears. And of all the things he didn't and couldn't give her, his respect was not among them.
"Sasuke," she crawled up to him and a ghost of a touch lingered on his arm.
"I'm... " he pushed, urging himself to return her with a fraction of what she offered him with every second she stayed in his crumbling home. Words didn't cost much - though sometimes they merited fortunes - but Hinata was a simple woman. A few 'thank yous' and simple 'good mornings' were enough to satiate her. "Are you happy? "
Fingers interlaced, he begged Kami to serve him a lie because he was a broken man whose pieces were held together by a very thin string that wouldn't take much to snap. But her hand wrapping around his was far better than the lie he was asking for and he knew, in that moment, that whatever she'd give him wouldn't take anything from him. Because she was a generous woman. She only gave. "I won't deny that it's hard sometimes but I'v come to love this place like a home. I've accepted you in my life and it may take time but I'm more than willing to accept you in my heart."
He pulled her down with him, under the kotatsu where it was warm, food and futons forgotten for the night. It was the only luxury he could afford her and he wouldn't hold back on the one thing he could offer. When time came, Sasuke thought as he kissed her pulse, he would give her all the clothes she could wear, and all the jewels she could feast her eyes upon. He'd buy her a fancy house and she'd never have to worry about saving money and wearing mismatched socks for it ever again.
And if he could, if that was possible and if there was any part of it still left in him; he'd give her his heart because she would do the same for him.
This can pass for a one-shot but I can extend it if you guys are interested
Leave a review if it isn't too much trouble.
TAYYABALARAIB