Leftover Storms
In the darkness of her newly shared room, an electric tension hums in the air. Sasuke's ears catch every hitch and bump in Sakura's apartment. The buzzing of the electric refrigerator, the fan's steady movement of heavy air against his heated skin, the rustle of unfamiliar covers. It's a quiet evening for the rest of the world, the calm before a storm trying to snuff out Sasuke's consciousness. The night outside flickers with anticipation, clouds gathering menacingly outside Sakura's windows.
From the stillness, a soft whimper breaks through the silent facade. Sasuke turns to see Sakura, her pink eyebrows furrow a deep mark against her pale forehead. Her sleeping frame shivers against unseen stimuli: a thought, a memory, a living nightmare brought to life. Earlier this evening, Sakura's recollections of Tadaichi, the extremist group, and her kidnapping by Kido Tsumiki haunted their dinner together. Looking back, no part of his dinner date with Sakura betrayed any deep-seated fears hidden behind a mask, but Sasuke knows. Of all people, Sasuke knows exactly how nightmares can crawl out from corners of your mind that you thought were once safe. In the tiniest wrinkle on Sakura's forehead, in the slightest of trembling from her body, Sasuke saw unspecific boyhood terrors reflected at him. At twenty years old, Sasuke cannot remember every fear that kept him from sleep. At twenty years old, Sasuke remembers exactly how exacting loneliness grips your heart after a horrible nightmare.
Sasuke watches, his heart breaking, as Sakura whimpers, "No... please... not again." She's reliving the dread, the hopelessness she'd felt when taken hostage, used as a mere tool because of her feelings for him. They had opened up fears Sakura thought she'd left in childhood, fears of inadequacy, and fears of losing those she cherishes. Fears of not knowing Sasuke, of not knowing who it is that she really loves.
His lone arm reaches out, tracing the slight crinkle at Sakura's brow before trying to smooth it over with a gentle touch. The physical mark of Sakura's nightmare quickly returns to the edge of her seal and Sasuke is stuck. He is left feeling stuck, the mud of a lifetime's worth of turbulent storms making the path forward to Sakura heavy. Steadying his breath, the turbulence of Sasuke's own emotions rattles him. Sakura is so used to steadying him, being gentle to him, calming him. But tonight, he must be the calm in her storm.
He reaches out, brushing her forehead gently. Her skin feels hot, the tempest of her nightmare burning her from the inside.
"Sakura," he murmurs, his voice the soft pitter-patter of rain, hoping to ground her. "Sakura, wake up."
Her eyes fly open, clouded with unfocused fear. A short gasp escapes from her lungs and Sasuke does the only thing he knows what to do against the incoming anxiety. He pulls her close, cradling her tightly as lightning might cradle the sky in a fierce embrace.
"Shhh... it's over," he whispers, his lips tracing gentle kisses to her crown. "You're safe." Sasuke can feel the shakiness in the swell of her chest, the tightness in her touch, the quick draw of her breath.
Each and every one of Sakura's senses tries to ground her as quickly as possible, but it is no use. The tears trickle down Sakura's face, each droplet a testament to the emotional downpour inside her. "It felt so real, Sasuke," she confesses, her voice quivering like wind-chimes in a gale. "It was you, but it was not you, and you left, and I didn't know what to believe, and you weren't answering your letters, and you weren't coming back, and –."
"I know." He tightens his embrace, the warmth between them a stark contrast to the cold winds of the past. "I'm right here," he assures, his voice firm yet gentle. "I'm not leaving you."
Sakura looks up, hurried eyes searching for certainty amongst the black and lavender. What she finds is a storm of emotions, raw and intense, mirroring her own. She realizes that her fears, the torrents inside her, are not hers alone to bear. In Sasuke's embrace, she feels the strength of their shared love, a bond that no storm can tear apart.
Sakura's voice breaks the tension, cracks through the anxiety of being left behind once again to whisper, "You'll take me with you?"
Holding her close, Sasuke does not feel a rush of emotions. There is no sudden flood of love that fills his heart. Sasuke stops and he knows. He just knows. He's not quickly falling in love. He's not wading through the muck. The is no fear or anxiety or anticipation when Sasuke admits to himself that he loves Sakura, has been in love with Sakura for so long. Here, in Sakura's dark bedroom, Sasuke knows a simple truth: he is happy so long as he is loved so deeply by the woman in the cradle of his arm. No distance, timing, breaking down, or fighting is getting in his way anymore.
"Until the ends of the earth," Sasuke breathes out, just as he pulls her lips onto his own.
THE END.