Security

January came and went without any more problems. By the fourth time I had to step out of the car, lock arms with Itachi, and walk through the doors of the banquet hall, I already familiarized myself with the expected small talk, passing compliments, and occasional friendly chuckle. These events still weren't something I enjoyed, but they were do-able and I no longer had to keep up with my mental gymnastics just to make it through the evening. That was to be expected. Things always got easier the more you did them.

It also helped that Naruto and Sasuke, and by extension, Neji, didn't cause any problem following the New Year's incident. It may be that I threatened Sasuke within an inch of his life, but regardless, what worked…worked.

Itachi assured me the formal dinners would die down after the January. Apparently, it was just customary for them to not only celebrate Christmas (which I was glad to had been excluded from) and New Year's, but to find excuses to hold dinners as a way to strengthen relationships in the new year and raise aristocratic spirits since it was simply unbearable to go outside in this kind of weather.

Cool and wet. We don't like that in the 1% apparently.

The days in-between the dinners I would spend it at the cottage with Deidara, or with Itachi when he had something scheduled. The majority of our time was spent out in public, where we were easily spotted and photographed to keep the rumour-mill turning. Shopping in the fashion district and lunches at high-end restaurants plagued my schedule, making it impossible for me to take on missions. Not that the agency asked. My high-profile relationship with Itachi made it unfavourable to send me on missions anyway—not that I ever went as myself though—and so they didn't complain when I asked to be temporarily removed from the mission roster to focus on my "personal"—cough other professional cough—life.

With the life that I knew turned upside down and then put to a complete halt, I had to spend a lot of my times looking forward to seeing Itachi as a way to find something to do. I could only spend so much time at the cottage or visit my mother so many times while evading both Deidara and the paparazzi. The poor boy was adamant about doing his job and I could only duck and hide from him so many times before he got used to me sneaking away when we were out. Not to mention sneaking away when I was already spotted in public was a lot harder than driving into the city through the backroads with a helmet that hid my identity.

"What are you thinking about?" Itachi asked me, pulling my gaze from the puddles outside.

He had us seated in the dim corner of the second-floor restaurant. Just quaint enough to give us the privacy to talk without being overhead, but not hidden enough that people couldn't see us from both within the restaurant and outside the large window. It was Valentine's Day after all. What kind of relationship did we have if Itachi didn't at least take me out to dinner on this dreary night?

I peeked at him over the table, noting that he looked relaxed and serene in his little suit in the glow of the candlelight. I had drowned out the classical piano playing in the middle of the room by the time our entrees arrived that night, and by this point, as we were working our way through dessert, I was bored. The repetitiveness of our week was starting to take its toll on me. If I wasn't bored in between our dates, I was bored during. It wasn't that I was unappreciative of the efforts Itachi took to plan these dates—although to be honest, I doubt it took much for him to call up a place and make a reservation—everything was just starting to feel like one big blur with how frequent and absolutely mundane it felt. The dinners started to feel less special the more I found myself in Sasori's little cottage, stripped and then dressed. There were only so many times I could ask Itachi how work was over dinner and listen to some vague answer about what he did at his office.

Kisame and Deidara sat across the room at the bar, entertaining one drink—occasionally two, if we ever took too long—but never enough to get them anything other than a buzz and never letting us out of their sight as per protocol.

"Just what I'm going to do for the next week," I smiled.

What did rich people do for fun? Should I take up golfing? Should I try to bond with his mother?

The thought made me shiver.

What was a friendless girl to do in a big city during times like these?

I supposed I needed more friends to hang around with, but the risk of exposure was too great for me to even consider casually hanging out with Ino and Hinata. What if they wanted to gossip about their boyfriends? I could lie well enough but to keep up with all the lies I had conjured up and go into detail about for the long term would surely end up messy. No one ever inquired too much about us for us to get caught, and intended to keep it that way.

Itachi gave me somewhat of a pained smile and chuckled quietly before setting his utensils down.

"How disappointing," He began, reaching across the table for my hand and rubbing his thumb over my knuckles before raising them to his lips. "Here we are at dinner and I can't keep you entertained enough that you're thinking about your week."

His words…he definitely had a way with them. I knew that going into this relationship, but I still felt my heart tug in what I could only describe as longing and appreciation that he cared for my experience. He never explicitly asks if I'm okay with how we are progressing and how I felt about our agreement, but he does so in a roundabout way when checking up on how my day is or if I'm dealing with the crowds okay. It was starting to feel as though he didn't care about that, but he just cared about me.

I went into this situation with expectations so low and the fact that he was doing the bare minimum—realistically, he wasn't, he was doing the most but I just didn't want to admit that—was tugging at my heartstrings. Was Neji really an ass in highschool? Who set my bar so low?

"Don't be so hard on yourself. I hear I'm a hard woman to please." I countered, pulling a wider smile from him.

Whatever retort he had died in his throat when the waitress came to clear the table. It was snarky, I was sure, but we couldn't possibly risk other people hearing Uchiha Itachi getting snarky with his date, now could we? He sent me a playful look over her cleaning hands, only looking away to thank her before holding my gaze completely when she leaves. There was a intensity in his look that I didn't want to think too hard about. The way the candlelight deepened his gaze was starting to make me feel some type of way—a way that the logical part of my mind did not want to entertain quite yet. When did I start becoming such a lovesick puppy that the smallest ounce of kindness and tenderness turned me into a heaping mess? When did the damage part of myself start calling out for companionship? This relationship was a sore reminder that I was only human at the end of the day, and coming out of isolation was as bad of an idea as I thought.

That settled it, I was going to go to therapy in my free time.

"I have a present for you."

My eyebrows knitted at his declaration, and I had to second guess my initial observation of him when he picked me up and walked me into the establishment that night. There wasn't a bag on him, or Kisame, or Deidara, I was a hundred percent positive—nor did I see anything large enough to be a ring a box bulging out from any of his pockets. There would be some creasing. I would have noticed. Or, at least, I hoped I would have.

"I didn't know we were doing presents." I said softly, only realizing then that in all my musing I failed to comprehend the fact that I hadn't prepared for this encounter either. "I didn't get you anything."

What would I have gotten him even if I had planned for it? What did he want or need that he couldn't already get himself? Unless I was able to somehow steal the deed and somehow transfer ownership of the company into Itachi's name, there wasn't much of anything else I could get him—with his money no less. Everything he wanted he could afford and whatever he liked or wanted—besides the company—I wasn't to privy of, either. I just didn't know what he liked. I'm not even sure if the man had any hobbies. All we've done is train and go out of dates. We've shared time together, but not interests.

My rich people instincts was telling me to lean towards a tennis racket or a set of golf clubs. You know, the usual rich wife gifts one gets their husband. A watch would have also been a sufficient gift, I was positive.

"And I didn't expect you to." He reached for his breast pocket and my eyes zero'd in on the spot. Every wrinkle and definition the poor lighting was giving away I used to wrack my brain for an answer. Too small to be a box and too flat to be a folded up envelop. Unless it was just a ring without a box? "You just need to except my present."

He slid a key fob and key across the table and everything began to click so obviously that I had wished Kakashi was there to chide me for missing such an obvious answer.

"Are these the keys to your home?"

On a key ring held a key fob and a small gold key. The fob came with a laser pointer, no doubt used to point and shoot as a way to get into the apartment while the physical key itself was used to get into his apartment. And just for an extra personal touch, there was a cherry blossom charm added to the key ring because for some reason people like to believe I'm self-obsessed and like to collect things that reminded me of my namesake.

"Yes, to my condo." He said carefully, watching me as I turned the key fob over to study the device—and the hidden compartment in the back for the emergency key in the case that the fob ran out of batteries or the receiver of the building malfunctioned. "Move in with me."

"Stage three." I whispered.

A million different scenarios ran through my head, as it had been every night for the last couple months as I laid awake past midnight thinking about what I needed to tie up and prepare for. Contrary to popular belief, I didn't just sit in my house, living off of my inheritance, like the rest of Konoha liked to speculate in my absence over the last couple of years. Agreeing to Itachi's proposal required certain sacrifices, all of which I was willing to make to clear my mother's debt. Moving in with Itachi now also required more sacrifices to my personal life, such as the privacy I was used to was now going to be compromised in this plan and while it was not a huge issue now that I had requested to be off the roster, it was a potential issue that would arise if I were to take up missions again—which, if I were being honest, would happen soon in the near future. I could only be this stagnant for so long, and waiting two years for the process of marriage and divorce was what was starting to keep me awake as of late.

Of course, this had always been a potential problem regardless of if Itachi was my partner or not. I had just figured I would have retired sometime in my thirties before settling down or I would meet some other nice agent within the agency so that this inconvenience could be avoided. Besides that, there were other issues at hand. Whether or not I took Tonton with me was one of them—an issue nether Itachi and I had ever discussed. Shizune would probably just maintain the property so all I had to do was transfer her money for the land taxes and bills. Which is fine, it wasn't like I was never not going to go home after this. I only lived 20 minutes out of the city and Shizune had been more than okay out there. She also came into the city on occasion to do in person consultations so it's not like she'd be lonely out there eith—

"Sakura." My eyes snapped up quickly to look at Itachi, probably looking like a deer in headlights to be caught so obviously in my own musings. "Do you have…reservations about this?"

"No! No. I was just taken by surprised." Reservations? No. I just had a lot to prepare for within the next couple days. "Yes, I'll move in with you."

He returned my shy smile with his own before standing and making his way to my side of the table. My heart fluttered when his warm palm pressed against the side of throat, and he used his thumb to tilt my chin upwards before placing a kiss of my lips.

"Wonderful." He murmured.

Even with the poor lighting, and the way his hair curtained his face a I could tell he was happy.

He took my hand and led me out of the restaurant with Deidara taking the front while Kisame took the back. The valet was quick to fetch the car and soon we were riding in comfortable silence through the city. The turns we made were different, but it didn't take long before Deidara answered my silent questions.

"We're taking her to your apartment, yeah?" The blond asked, and I peak from the window to look at him looking ahead absentmindedly like it was the most innocent question in the world, and then to Itachi who hm'ed in agreement.

I kept my brows from naturally furrowing in suspicion. While I had never been opposed to any of Itachi's plans or our dates, he had always been courteous enough to let me know these plans since I was an active participant. Even for surprises he had at least told me they were surprises. For him to plan for us to return to his apartment without at least mentioning it to me did not bode too well with me. Good feelings from dinner aside, he may have given me a key to his apartment but that didn't mean I wanted to be moved in that night—or start taking me there whenever he felt like it—nor did I felt ready be more intimate with him than necessary.

"You've never seen where I live." He soft spoken statement made me unclench my jaw. "I thought it would be appropriate to show you before you move in."

I tilted my head and cocked an eyebrow at him then, quietly studying him for any…perverted intentions. When the heir looked innocent enough in all of his scheming, I gave him a small smirk before reaching for his hand and squeezing it lightly.

"Yeah, I've been curious to see what Uchiha Itachi lives like recently." I sing-songed, quirking my eyebrows in fake recollection. "All I can remember is dark blue walls and a grey comforter." Then I gave him a pointed look. "Maybe a couple dirty magazines poorly hidden under the bed, if I'm remembering correctly?"

A duo of snickering broke out in the front seats of the car and Itachi was quick to pull his hand away from mine with a quiet "tsk."

"You are not." He huffed but made no attempt to hide to amused smile that broke out across his face.

"Must have been Sasuke's then."

His condo was unsurprisingly located in the nicer end of downtown Konoha. On the corner sat a quaint little cafe, and while small, it did keep his building from sitting directly on the busy street that yielded higher traffic. Turning right at said corner led down a short quiet, bricked road that was sandwiched in between his building and the one across from his. At the end of the road was the Konoha River which no doubt made for a nice view from the condos.

Access to the underground parking garage was located on the side of the building, directly in front of the river, and as Itachi helped me out of the car in the front while Kisame went to park the car, I couldn't help but appreciate that Itachi chose to live somewhere quiet and peaceful. While the main road was only a minute walk away, I doubted anyone travelled down these roads unless they lived in these condos themselves. The cars sounded so distant with the river in the back. I had been worried he lived in the very heart of downtown where we would be a hop and a skip away from oncoming traffic.

Itachi encouraged me to try out my key the second we got through the first door. While I had wanted to tell him that I had experience using keyless access points despite living in the countryside, I allowed him to talk me through the process of pointing and shooting the laser into the keypad, listening for the lock to click, before opening the second door. The security guard at the front desk gave us a polite nod as we walked through the lobby equipped with its own fireplace and large leather seats, and I made a point of making eye-contact just to remember his face out of old habit.

Surprisingly, Itachi lived on the sixth floor of the ten story building. A quick look around told me at most there were only ever six apartments on each floor, but I was almost 100% positive that the top floor would house larger apartments. I liked that about him, I found. He didn't feel the need to live well-beyond what he needed just because he had the money to.

However, his apartment was not small by any means.

The hallway, which held the coat closet and a small laundry room led to an open concept kitchen and dining/living room. The kitchen itself had an island facing the living room that had floor to ceiling windows. Since Itachi's apartment was in the right-hand corner of the building that meant it gave us the view of both the condo across from us and that of the river.

"This is my home." He said, taking my purse. "There is a guest bathroom to the right if you need to use it. That is the spare bedroom."

Tucked in the right corner, on the other side of the kitchen from where we stood in the entrance hallway, as another hallway that had two doors. The guest bedroom took up the space directly under stairs while across from it, sitting directly behind the closet, was the guest bathroom.

Despite the potted plants, his home felt unsurprisingly sparse. Perhaps that was due to how overly neat and tidy everything sat as if we were walking into a freshly cleaned hotel room. Maybe I was just a messy person. But if there was housekeeping then I wasn't complaining.

Quietly, he nudged me out of my coat and hung them in the closet. I caught myself watching him then-the way he carefully made sure the shoulders were sitting just right in the hanger and the sleeves were neatly tucked before closing the closet door.

Learning that bit about him alone made the experience of being in his home feel more...intimate. While we had spent a considerable amount of time together at the cabin, at dinners, and other public outings, there was only so much I could gather from seeing him outside of his safe place. Even with his family I could feel him putting up a front. There were no coats to hang or ugly habits he would be so willing to expose. One could only keep up a facade of perfection for so long and I doubt that could last after he came home from a hard day at the office.

"Can I get you something to drink?" He asked, pulling open the fridge. I curiously scurried over to get a better look inside the fridge, taking note of the neatly stacked pre-planned meals and glass bottles of alcohol lining the shelves.

"If I didn't knew any better, I would say you were trying to get me drunk." I said, peering up at him from under my lashes. "And lower my guard."

He scoffed indignantly. "I am nothing but a gentleman. Perhaps you are mistaking my good intentions with your own."

There were only so few times Itachi was willing to engage in harmless banter with me. I found I enjoyed the moments the most.

"What do you mean?" I laughed, wrapping my arm around his middle. "I am just a sweet girl you've lured back to your swanky little loft after dinner."

Itachi was humoured, but unconvinced, choosing not to comment on both my sweetness and being lured back here as he planted a chaste kiss on my forehead. "I got you a little something."

"Another present? Don't tell me you're gifting me this entire loft?"

If there was a worst girlfriend of the year award, I would be in line because as this man was gifting presents left and right, I came here with nothing to show.

"Well, it's technically yours when you marry me." I tried to ignore the way he casually mentioned I would marry him, because really—honestly Sakura, get it together—it was something I knew was going to happen and it was only happening under the circumstances of our work agreement. It wasn't like he was looking forward to making his wife, and it wasn't like I was a little excited at the idea that he would be excited for that.

No, that wasn't it. It couldn't be it. No way was I actually jittery at the idea that Itachi may entertain the idea of marrying me beyond our contractual agreement.

I stepped back to let him rummage through his organized fridge, watching as he carefully moving the neatly stacked glass containers to the side to pull something from the back. It was small, and white, and cardboard, and topped with a neat little ribbon, and I was already excited for it before he opened it.

He set it on the counter and carefully opened it under the light of the kitchen, revealing chocolaty goodness with red drizzles.

"Cake?" I asked, already salivating at the idea of yet another dessert tonight, nearly bouncing on my toes as he moved to grab plates, forks, and a knife from under the island.

"Raspberry cheesecake." He clarified, cutting a piece, and sliding the plate over to the seating portion of the island in front of us. Because I was oh so polite and knew my manners better than to dig in without him, I waited as he repackaged the cake and hid it back into the fridge before sitting down with our forks in hand. His fork had only left my hand and slipped into his for half a second before I helped myself.

You could seldomly go wrong with chocolate cake, but the way the first piece melted in my mouth had me nearly melting in my chair with delight.

"Do you like it?" Itachi asked, but from the way he chuckled and smiled when he looked at me told me he knew the answer when he asked.

"Cake is the best." I sighed, already scraping the plate with my fork for whatever was left—sauce, drizzle, crumbs, and all.

I felt his palm on my thigh then: large, warm, and firm. I kept myself from stiffening up altogether before I turned to face him, curious and almost anxious.

It wasn't like Itachi and I had never touched before—obviously. We've kissed, we've hugged, but his touches had always been polite and appropriate when we were out. I always had an arm or a hand to hold, his hand would always lightly rest on the dip of my back to guide me, and occasionally he'd reach out to tuck a hair behind my ear. But to feel his hand so firmly pressed against my skin—on my thigh of all places—was new. The warmth from his closeness, the scent of his cologne, it all meant and felt different when we were alone in his condo. I couldn't hide behind the fact that it was all for show when we were in the safety of his home.

"You like sweets?" He asked, stepping down from his stool to hover over me.

Despite myself, I tried to look as unbothered by his proximity.

"You are what you eat, neh?" I said, albeit a little quiet as he leaned in.

The kiss started off softly. He had one hand on my neck, the other on my thigh, but he kissed me as though I was breakable. Not that I minded. Not that I wasn't a whirlpool of emotions while I was trying to figure out what to do with myself, and if I wanted to do what I was thinking I wanted to do in that moment.

He pulled back slightly to gage my reaction and in the moment, I could hardly keep my eyes from flickering from his dark half-lidded eyes to his lips as his hot breath mingled with mine. Then, when my hands slipped from the counter to rest on his hips and my heel came to rest on the back of his thigh, he leaned forward again, this time more urgently.

In his empty loft all I could feel was the heat of his body and his lips on mind. Every time his tongue stroked mine, I felt myself being pulled in closer and the moan I was trying to keep so hard to keep down was threatening to fill the silence of the room. The way his thumb rubbed circles into my thigh had shivers running through my body, and when he moved away to trail kisses down my neck, pulling that moan from my throat, all I wanted to do was—

"Wait, are Kisame and Deidara coming back?" I gasped, threading my fingers through his hair. Was I going home tonight? Did he plan for this? That's okay though, right? That's normal. He's not terrible for wanting to bed me. That's just a natural part of the relationship, right? Because that's what we're in? A relationship, right?

"Not unless I call for them." He whispered, leaving another open mouth kiss on my neck that made me arch my back and run my nails through his scalp. "Why?"

Do I say it's because I was curious? Because I wanted to go home? It was obvious that they were aware of Itachi's intentions. Showing me the apartment shouldn't have taken that long, and even if he wanted to be stay and "hang-out," I had thought it was under the condition of all of us together. Where were they anyway? Did they already go home?

He pulled away. "Did you want to leave?"

"No, I—" I began, trying to figure out if I did want to leave because the second I said "no, I want to stay," it meant I was anticipating what he was anticipating. "I was just wondering."

But alas, the moment was loss. The heat that was once there was replaced by the awkward silence of my uncertainty, and I could see it in the way his brows knitted in concentration as he tried to figure out what to do next. It was kind of funny if I really thought about it. The way we were trying to figure out what to do with each other like a couple on a first date.

Tonight's date was anything but a first date, but it started to feel like our first real date. Or maybe it was just me.

"You must be tired from wearing this dress all night." He coughed, straightening himself up and holding a hand out for me to take. "Would you like a shower? I have clothes I could lend you if you want to spend the night."

I was meant to move in regardless of if I spent the night of not, I knew that. It was part of the agreement, and I knew spending a night meant nothing I comparison to living together under the same roof. But I felt shy, and I hated myself for it, so just to prove myself wrong I gave him a quiet "okay" and took his hand.

The guest bathroom had a standing shower and a collection of sample shampoo and conditioner Itachi probably stole from hotels hidden under the sink. The idea of Uchiha Itachi swiping complimentary hygiene products was a comical idea, and I couldn't help but smile as he awkwardly showed me his collection. Nevertheless, it paid off as I was able to choose from scents like rose and baby lavender instead of defaulting to any "forest pine," "alpha cedar metal mountain," and "manly" smells. I gave a quiet thanks when he came back with a set of clothes that he left on counter before stripping out of the tight fitted dress and stepping under the hot water.

Showering was thirty percent cleaning, twenty percent talking myself out wanting to go home, and fifty percent reminding myself that I've been in worst situations. Spending the first night at a boyfriend's house—even if fake—was nothing compared to spying on a foreign diplomat in a foreign country where getting caught meant potentially being tortured and executed. I could make if through the night no matter how awkward it got.

When I stepped out of the shower, I was surprised to find that the set of clothes he gave me was a simple T-shirt. This man was pulling all the stops tonight.

"You didn't think to give me pants?" I asked, coming out to see that he had already cleaned our plates and settled on the couch.

It didn't mean I wasn't going to make my displeasures unheard. I wasn't quite taken enough that I wasn't thinking straight to realize he was plotting.

"I figured my shirt would be long enough to cover what was necessary." He looked over his shoulder at me, taking in the sight of me drowning in one of his shirts and smirked. "I was right."

"Hardly right." I said tersely. One false move and raspberry cheesecake wasn't the only kind of cake he was gonna get an eyeful tonight.

I rounded the L-shape sectional to sit beside him, and after debating whatever went on in his pretty little head, he reached over to grip the thigh furthest from him and swung it over his lap. Itachi was exceptionally bold when we were alone, I mused to myself, almost wanting to laugh and cry at the change in character. I almost didn't know what to expect anymore. There wasn't any training prepared me for this. I was more equipped to handle his bastardness than his flirtatious side.

"Would you like more cake? Wine?" He asked, settling me only his lap when I froze up to keep myself from making any more intimate contact. Not that he was aggressive in his suggestive guidance. It was a simple squeeze of the hips and tug forward. Not that I needed much encouraging, I noticed, either. "Me?"

My hand came to rest on his shoulder, and the second I felt those sinful lips brush against the nape of my neck again, they rushed up cover his mouth.

"Stop trying to seduce me!" I hissed, doing my darnest to remind myself that my mother would not be proud of me for being so easily coerced into sleeping with a man, and no doubt a fucking Uchiha at that. Despite his surprised, I felt him chuckle underneath me and a wicked grin broke out from behind my hands. Carefully, he removed them to have them rest on his shoulders again, and he circled my waist with his arms.

"I would do no such thing." He said, and I was almost convinced had it not been for the glint in his eyes. "Unless it's working."

I almost kept myself from rolling my eyes—almost. And I rolled off him, despite the little resistance he gave, to settle back at his side. This time tucked against him just to keep the physical touch which I hoped would dissuade him from pulling me on top of him again.

"What are we watching?"

It wasn't like I couldn't tell we were watching the news, but for conversation's sake and to keep it from getting awkward again, I figured it was best to keep some form of dialogue going.

"The news." He answered anyway, turning the volume up. "Crime doesn't rest. Not even on Valentine's Day."

There was another dead body found in the sleazier part of town. Was it a homicide? Another drug deal gone wrong? Or was it another homeless person succumbing to the elements after being outside for so long? A big city like Konoha, like other big cities, was bound to have problems as such. My mother spoke about it all the time and I've been in enough scuffles to realize how true her words were.

"Don't worry. We're safe here." He must have mistaken my musing for fear, and he pulled me closer against him reassuringly as if I expected all the problems I listed off in my head to come busting through his front door.

"I don't know," I began, sighing for dramatic effects. "This neighbourhood looks a little sketchy."

Yes, the neighbourhood of condos equipped with their own security guards and state of the art security equipment was definitely sketchy. I think I felt safer in the countryside with my two security guard, Shizune, and all my weapons.

"I guarantee you that no one sketchy is getting through security at the front desk." Probably because he was a trainee under Itachi's father. "And if they do, Kisame and Deidara are close by." Which I only assumed meant that they were waiting in the car, stayed in one of the rooms in this condo, or were watching us from the condo across the street. "At worst, if they happen to get through that door, I will protect you."

I wanted to laugh at the idea of Uchiha Itachi trying to protect me from anything. This was the man who I criticized for not even opening his own door when he first came to pick me up. Don't think that because he's managed to charm me that I had forgotten about that.

"I think you lost me after the sketchy people getting through the door." I teased, rubbing his chest as a sign of good sportsmanship before climbing over him again. "If anything," I locked my hands behind his neck, gently tugging him down with me onto the plush couch and he looked all too eager to follow that I almost felt bad for what I was going to do next. Again: almost. When I mangled to get my legs around his waist, I rolled us over and onto the floor. Just to prove a point. Just to remind myself I still got it. "I think I would be the one protecting you."

At first, he looked winded, probably having the breath knocked out of him from landing on the plush rug. Then he just gave himself a pained smile for being so easily tricked. Take note that it was important to humble an Uchiha every now and then.

"Always rough-housing." He huffed, taking the hands I offered and allowing me to pull him up into a sitting position.

"Shall we go to bed?"

My brain stuttered. "Hm?"

"Bed."

I opened my mouth then closed it. Knowing that I looked as stupid as I was going to sound if I said "no." I was the daughter of Doctor Tsunade and a special agent for crying out loud. I was scared of laying under the covers with a mere man?

I let him help me up and lead me up the stairs. He paused at the top to point out the lighthouse you can see across the river if you squinted just enough, as if it help my nerves. The top of the stairs held a door which he clarified led to his own personal bathroom—which I was free to use, of course—and sliding doors to his closet.

His bed was pushed against the far wall, sitting directly above the kitchen and overlooking the rest of the loft. The pillows were perfectly perched against the headboard and the sheets stretched and perfectly laid. He had a nightstand on either side, and a painting of the Uchiha crest hung above his headboard.

"Hm, still grey, I see." I commented, taking in the dark notes of the upstairs compared to the rest of the loft. The stairwell and railings were a dark metal, and he laid out a large black rug to cover up the lightness of the wooden floor. Of course, there was his trusty grey comforter neatly made on the bed. Uchihas were nothing if they didn't like dark colours like red, black, grey, and navy.

"It's a different comforter." Itachi offered, and while I sure it was, I made an effort to look skeptical and as though my comment wasn't alluding to anything.

He ushered me towards the bed before excusing himself to the bathroom. I made a point to take the side closest to the railing, in the case I ever needed jump over and plot my escape. I'm not anything if I wasn't prepared, and we have witness firsthand the mess that I am if I'm not.

His sheets were unsurprisingly soft as I carefully tucked myself under the covers. From my spot on the bed, I got the perfect view of the horizon on the water. I guess it wasn't too bad waking up to the water and the sun every day in comparison to the trees, trees, and more trees I can spot from my bedroom window at home.

What did surprise me, however, was how odd Itachi looked out of his usual suits and dress shirts. For as long as I've known him, he's always dressed professionally. From dress shirts to school uniforms—which was just more dress shirts—I don't think I had ever seen him wear anything that was white collared and ironed. So, to see him in just a plain t-shirt and joggers had me trying to restart my brain as it kept trying to compute that the man who just exited the bathroom was the Uchiha Itachi himself and not some stranger I should be reaching for the gun in my nightstand for.

I watched him silently as he walked over to the stairs and to the set of switches above. As he switched them off, I made note of what each one did: living room light, hallway light—ooh, switching to raise and lower the two-story blinds. The only ones he left on were the ones hanging directly over our beds. I figured the switches above his nightstand took care of those.

When he made his way over to the bed, I couldn't help but wonder if moving in with him like this really was necessary. I could rent out another condo in the building, though I never really found out how much rent was. And I wondered if sleeping with him in his bed was even logical. Unless he had cameras set up in his home with footage he was going to leak to the press to "prove" our loving and devoted relationship, I knew I could simply just sleep in the spare bedroom.

By that way of thinking, anything we had done within the last two hours within his apartment was illogical as well. Who was here to watch us make-out, cuddle on the couch, and wrestle which watching the news?

But when he turned off the lights, climbed under the sheets, and reach for me, I didn't think about the logistics of our situation too hard. My one-night stands were far and few between, and the men weren't huge cuddlers after they've had their nut. It's been a minute since I've be able to lay with someone like this, and as I stated before, it would seem as if I was starved of affection.

"Hands to yourself." I hissed anyway when his fingers worked its way under my shirt to the waistband of my panties. "Kisame and Deidara aren't here to protect you from me."

Physically, I am well. Mentally, I ain't even here.

We're well over one year into this pandemic and I hope everyone is healthy, wearing masks, and getting vaxxed. Take time out of your day to do something you love and make time for your mental health like you do with your physical health.

All comments and criticism are accepted and appreciated.