there is a soft touch of lips on her weeping eyes, with enough pressure to feel real just above her closed lids, like petals of her favorite cosmos in spring.
the next is on the apples of her tear-stained cheeks, slow and deliberate, like a whisper of a lover's secret in the dead of the night.
and the last on her own mouth, with silent reverence and solace, like a wordless promise of i'm here for you and you were brave to have made it through today and you are strong enough to make it again tomorrow.
when his lips move with her own, sakura lets her tears fall freely, her hands shaking as she grips his arms that were the only anchor she has on earth.
everything feels like a mess. everything feels like it's fucking falling apart.
the world is fucked up, and so am i.
but in the circle of sasuke's arms, and with the sweep of his tongue against hers, and the murmur of her name from his lips on hers— there is not an ounce of anger or pain; not even a trace of regret or disappointment.
there is only him; there are these sheets.
there is only them;
and she is relieved.
a/n: projecting my own need through my works is actually a hobby of mine [insert pained laugh here] lmao i also need a sasuke that would kiss my face and tears away huhu