She was surprised that Sasuke didn't leave for his mission. He rested his sword gently on the bureau, and took to staring at her, with that same impassive expression. Maybe...more so blank than indifferent. A little...detached, even.
Hinata spun on her heel and swept away, entering the bathroom that adjoined their room and locking the door behind her. It was only mid-noon, but he turned on the shower, before sinking to the floor. She drew her knees and her fists to her face, finally surrendering to those ever-reliable tears. After a while she retired to rapid sobs, hoping the running water drowned it all out. She didn't regain control of herself until the early evening.
When Hinata exited the bathroom, the sun had gone down, and the bedroom was dark. She was surprised to see Sasuke in bed, fast asleep. She slipped quietly out of the room, down the stairs, into the living room, and sunk into the couch. Closing her eyes, Hinata quickly lost consciousness.
She felt a little better in the morning, when the sun touched her face, and gently urged her to awake. Alas, she had gone through with it. She'd told Sasuke how she felt...sort of.
Most people were debilitated by their fear of change, but for once, she was committing to it. Now that her revelation had been achieved, she was sure the remainder of the situation would be calm and suppressed – just like he was.
Hinata sat up and rubbed her eyes, looking around the house. The curtains had been pulled open, as though Sasuke had intended for the sunlight to awake her. She saw him in the kitchen, pouring coffee. Black.
She couldn't determine whether she loved or despised him, but looked away when he glanced at her, running her fingers through her hair and attempting to gather her bearing.
"Hinata," he mentioned, causing her to freeze. "We need to talk."
Right. That was what civil people did. He probably wanted to get the paperwork sorted. Get this thing over with nice and fast.
Hinata distractedly nodded, blinking the last bits of fatigue from her eyes, before climbing to her feet and moving grudgingly into the kitchen. Sasuke seemed to ignore her disheveled appearance: yesterday's clothes, and a tangled mess of hair.
"We've been married for three years," he said, watching her. "This was without warning." Hinata didn't notice him glance down at his coffee, a gesture that was remarkably apprehensive for him.
And she was staring at her feet.
Three years. They'd gotten married at twenty-three. They'd been so young. They still were. "You're never around," Hinata whispered, finally. It was only fair to give him her reasoning. Was he really so oblivious? "We're never together."
She didn't want to have to talk, or explain it any longer. He was an idiot. He should have known. "We were going nowhere," she said, and her voice cracked. She quickly turned away from him.
Hinata didn't hear him move, but suddenly knew that Sasuke was right behind her. "What do you want?" he muttered. His body was close. She felt his breath tickle the back of her neck.
What she wanted?
Progress. To move forward, not to feel stuck in place. Both were comfortable in their careers, but were submerged in them. They didn't see each other for days on end, even on her days off – and Sasuke didn't collaborate. He didn't take days off. She wanted...to more forward...to live...to keep living. She wanted the excitement she'd once felt when he looked at her. Lately...he didn't. They had sex, scarcely, almost a chore, and with a strange lack of intimacy. She couldn't even recall their last session, and was growing increasingly self-conscious.
She wanted someone to kiss in the mornings, love in the evenings, hold, laugh with, grin at, even bicker with. She was depressed, feeling awkwardness and dread on the few occasions their eyes caught. They supported each other, in a technical sense, but not emotionally or otherwise. She couldn't talk to him about...about things she wanted to talk about. He stayed out of her way, like a perfect roommate, slipping in and out without notice. At night he came home and climbed quietly into the bed after she had already fallen to sleep. He kept just close enough to inhale her scent, one of the few of her attributes he seemed to appreciate.
She wanted to breathe him. To touch the beautiful wall of muscle running along his body. To tell him that he mumbled sometimes in his sleep, to taunt him, blow kisses, lick his lips, do him favors - have him do hers. Help him with things...personal things... Hinata felt herself blush. That was assuming he had those, things, because she was almost positive he was asexual.
And she had problems of her own, on the times she glimpsed him naked, and awkwardly looked away, or when she felt him climb into bed, his body brushing hers.
Sasuke was so accustomed to being alone. He didn't need her, and she...she had grown to not need him.
So what did she want?
"I don't know."
