Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
The Smell of Fresh Paint
Sasuke stepped back from the wall, now a pale blue, and felt his lips twitch up into a smile. It was all ready now, he thought, surveying the room. Old toys, salvaged from the remains of his childhood, were stacked up in the corner, and the worn rocking chair donated by his mother-in-law was by the window, covered to keep it clean. The door opened behind him and he turned to put his arm around his wife, hand resting on her swollen belly. Sakura kissed his cheek, not caring that it was covered in wet paint.
"It looks wonderful, Sasuke-kun."