Prelude
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Naruto. All rights pertaining to Naruto belong to Masashi Kishimoto... because if I did, there would've been lots of SasuHina moments!
WARNING: This story is rated M for mature content also known as TERRIBLE LEMONS.
Hinata fiddled with her fingernails, her hands clasped together. She sat on the futon, nervous with her legs tucked underneath. The faint creases on her yukata rouses a compulsion and her hand slid over the fabric. As her anticipation grew becoming overbearing, she repeated the gesture, running her fingers along the collar to make it crisp and neat.
It was the night after her wedding.
Her groom's feet brushed along the tatami mat and her breath quickened. The night fell darker and behind the paper doors, they are separated from the world. Inside the room, her breath becomes his breath, and the crickets, sounding sharp in warm summer monotone bade Sasuke to rush forward and begin at once. He settled on the futon, an arms length from where she was with the customary white lily in his hand. Hinata unconsciously drew more breath and her heartbeat intensified.
"You alright?" Sasuke asked, his voice solemn, almost veiling something within.
Hinata felt heat rising in her cheeks. They couldn't even look at each other during the dinner banquet and to think that something like this is actually happening. Feelings ran through her gut—something like fear mixed with embarrassment.
"I-I am quite alright, Sasuke-kun," she replied, his name failing to a whisper.
He looked at her and she lowered her eyes to the futon. For the months they've come to be acquainted, she knew him to be a calculated man, rhythm in the movement of his arms, his back always dignified, and his eyes never a wasted intention. If he's keen on proving his point, they're shockingly stark and straightforward, contrasting how he often set his gaze far and deep inside his own mysterious mind.
"Let's go to sleep. Turn off the lights if you want." He grabbed her hand to put the white lily there and proceeded quietly under the blankets, turned away from her.
It took a while to process but when she didn't see him move, disappointment slowly sank in. Ever since becoming of age, the duties of a Hyuuga woman in marriage have become apparent to Hinata. Not that she's eager about it but the night following the wedding ceremony comes with expectations in the Hyuuga Clan. With their marriage, those expectations take form in an Uchiha heir that Hyuuga elders will be watching closely with impatience.
She anxiously bit her thumb at the thought of them asking by morning.
Her affections were raised towards Naruto but when he suddenly got together with Sakura with mixed reactions from their circle, she never thought about anybody then. While he rebelled against fate, she meekly obliged it. She almost succumbed to a passive reticence that nothing she wanted will be hers, not even spending the last of her days in Konoha should she be offered to suitors coming from outside the borders.
That was until Uchiha Sasuke asked for her hand in marriage. It was sudden but every authority in the family had consented. Affections can be learned, they said. He wasn't lacking nor wanting anything besides a family and she came to think of him as future husband with befuddlement. In a rational perspective, her clan has merits. On the other hand, he was never the sort to be bothered. But he was even compliant to every order her father made. If he didn't like her for whatsoever reason, he wouldn't have invested a large portion of Uchiha property to the Hyuuga Family under vague stipulations.
It was Sasuke's volition and perseverance that led them to this point, but when it comes to this, did she present so undesirably he chose not to bed her after he scrutinized?
Feeling morose, she looked at the lily in her hand. Her legs creaked as she reached for the string to turn off the ceiling light. In turn, the red night light subtly glowed against the dark. She gently placed the lily on the mat as she lay.
If she was a flower, maybe she wouldn't know about it—the bitterness sewn on her chest.
つづく