Author's Note: Hope you enjoy this short little drabble of Sasusaku...
My headcanon is that Sakura is the one who hogs the cover and Sasuke's the poor fellow left to make do with the little cover left for him. Even with her horrible sleeping habits, he still adores her. He considers her the light of his life; her imperfections are nothing but endearing to him.
Inspired by: Shakespeare's "My Mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun."
Summary: Cute little drabble of the challenges Sasuke face when sharing a bed with his restless sleeper of a wife, Sakura.
When she wrapped her arms around his waist, he could feel the intense warmth of her love. He didn't need to look into her eyes to know that she cherished him. All the love and admiration came through her gentle touch. The sink and rise of her chest against his body soothed him until his eyelids hooded over. He had always felt at peace with her by his side.
Was it selfish of him to never want to let go? "Sakura," he said.
"Hm?" She said this with her face buried in the curve of his neck. He felt the tingling warmth of her breath against his skin and it made his heart hitch in his chest. He shifted his body on the bed so that he could wrap his arm around her.
Sakura groaned against his skin; she had liked the position they were in before. She looked up at him with squinting eyes to show her upset. He closed his eyes and let his breathing fall to match the cadence of the night. He wasn't asleep. He was still blissfully aware of her presence; of the warm scent emitting from her soft, warm milky complexion. Even with his eyes closed, he could still vividly make out the beautiful rise and grooves of her body.
"You're hogging the covers." That was the thing about Sakura. She was everything to him, his heart and the home he'd always loved returning to, a piece of his humanity—his light, but also a coverhog. Sharing a bed with her was like sharing a bed with a troll. He'd never shared a bed with a troll; he'd never want to, but he had no other entity to compare with her restless energy.
She would stir until the bed shook. She fussed so often that she'd chase him to the edge of the bed—so far on the edge, it took all his dexterity to fight back for his spot. She kicked, she punched, she slapped, hell she'd even dug her fingers into his cheeks and pulled his face until his teeth were made bare. What kind of action was she performing in the dream world that translated to clawing off his face in the real world?
"Mhm." She snuggled up against him to share in his warmth.
"You really are annoying," he said with a growing smirk. When his head fell to the side to look at her, he noticed a smirk, mirroring his, appearing on her face.
Although her inability to sleep still or share the covers prevented him a peaceful night of shut-eye, he'd never fault her for it. He'd go many sleepless nights if it meant her by his side. He loved her presence that much. And perhaps her constant need to cling to him during the night meant that she felt the same. No question about it.
"We need a bigger bed." Those were his final words before his eyes shut under the weight of his exhaustion. His head leaned against the soft texture of her pink hair while her cheeks pressed against the warmth of his chest. He'd managed to fall asleep even with her leg thrown over his and her right hand pressed against his face.
Author's Note:
Thank you for taking the time to read! It'd also mean a lot if you left me your thoughts. Feedback/Criticisms are welcome. :)