Prompt: battle scars

Title: Apocalypse

Summary: Because he kisses her in places that hurt the most. Sasusaku/ blank period.

Rating: T

When I take a look at my life and all of my crimes, you're the only thing that I think I got right—

She feels the tips of his fingers against hers over the mattress underneath. His humid breathing on her cheeks, his forehead pressed to hers. Sneaking to intertwine their digits, his hooded eyes shyly glance at her, while hers peek behind their lids. There's an undefined beauty to the way he looks at her, as if rendering her naked even with all these layers of clothing. Not only in terms of her physical form, but also the emotions she can barely confront herself. So she sometimes finds herself looking away, as if shrinking.

He doesn't seem too bothered by it, though, so he kisses her cheek softly, where it's dusted the most red. Sasuke has always witnessed her as a girl with enough self-confidence, as somebody who isn't afraid and someone who knows her worth— at least for the present few years, but it's at times like this that the girl he loves, is insecure and shy, like she used to be when they were still kids. Hesitant eyes which avoid meeting his, her heartbeat— loud and fast, he can hear echoing in the silent room, her fingers weakly hold his shirt, shaking lightly over his chest and the adorable way she keeps on biting her lower lip.

He kisses her lips then, softly and timidly, and she clutches onto his hand a little tighter for a moment. It hasn't been long since they started traveling together, and even though they have been peacefully comfortable in each other's company for far too long, becoming cosy with physical intimacy is still something they are in the process of discovering.

He pulls away from her, enough to take a proper look at her face. Her shy eyes levitate to find his, her lips form a timid smile, her cheeks blushing. It makes him feel warm inside, down to the core of his chest. His fingers unlace with hers to find her face, his thumb rubs against her jaw before he leans in to kiss her once more, lovingly and softly. His lips against her sweet ones, carefully deepening the kiss with each second. His hand holds her head in place while his tongue pushes against her lower lip. She's nervous but opens her mouth for him anyway. A passionate entangle then, their lips get invested in, where they shower each other with all the unsaid words of deafening affection.

The strands of her light pink hair obstruct his vision of her eyes, viridian orbs glisten through the seams. His fingers crawling into her scalp in front then, pulling them back, exposing her forehead. Her eyes shy away when it does, as if faltering. He doesn't know why she's insecure about it, still; when with the lavender yin seal adorning it, she looks more beautiful. But at the same time, he understands it, all too well, being a victim of self-pity and countless regrets himself. He places his tender lips to her forehead, and for a while, lets them stay this way. Their eyes closed and exhaled air filling the vicinity of their breathing, as they intimately hold on to each other. He doesn't know why, but knowing her too well has never haunted him like he first thought it would, and he's always happy to try and chase her doubts away in ways that only he can, like the same she does for him. She always has.

He likes the expression she has after everytime he kisses her forehead, wide eyes sparkling as if she knows exactly what his motives are and what he means. And he smiles in return, before leaning in for another one of his ardent, fulfilling kisses which leave her overwhelmed with overflowing love. Because she has known this long before even he himself did, that her boy is capable of showing love in his unrivaled, unique way, in form of these small gestures and unuttered words that she could read in his beautiful eyes; but she had no idea, until witnessing it first hand, that this could leave her in such an utterly messed up and chaotic state. But she loves it. Just like she loves him.

It's a little hard to breathe when her heart beats so fast while he amorously devours her lips, the hypoxia also makes her vision a little bit hazy, so she wraps her arms around his neck, tightly, as if clinging to him could provide her with enough life that oxygen won't be needed. He pulls her closer by her back too, while she tightens her thighs around his waist, their lip-lock becoming more and more profound by the seconds. He pulls apart for a moment, an interval of a few seconds but enough to let her breathe in sufficient air before kissing her again. It's hard to hold back back when she's intertwined with his body like this, her chest heaving up and down against his, her tightened grip around his waist and her fingers entangled with his jet-black locks. So he kisses her like a hungry man, starved for love and warmth, all his life.

They pull away, his head resting in the crook of her neck while she breathes into his ear, rapidly. Arms tighten their grip around his neck, while he gets lost in the scent of her. He kisses her throat then, she closes her eyes at the sudden contact. The collar makes it a little hard for him so he sneaks his hand up to undo the zip of her shirt. Which makes her hiss and take a deep breath in, before she buries her face in the side of his profile, as if too shy to look into his eyes.

He pulls her blouse down her shoulders, while his lips remain softly pressed to the side of her neck. She lets out a raspy cry on contact with the air around, and he lazily pulls away to steal a glance. She's timidly looking away, her cheeks painted crimson her chin is scrunched up. While his eyes find her face rather fetching, they trail down to observe her skin now bared, subconsciously, If not for his ardour. Silky to his sight, soft to his touch, when his digits stroke against her skin. Held captive by the beauty of it, eyes stare at the glistening surface of it, marked beautifully with fresh scratches and longevous scars at place. Remarkably, the one marking the corner of her shoulder, just beneath the blade of it. And the fresh wound over the upper side of her arm, persisting from their encounter with some bandits a few hours ago, before they were rewarded with this nightstay by the land dwellers.

He doesn't know why she doesn't heal her own wounds right off the bat, despite of being a medic herself; but nonetheless, it doesn't make her any less in his eyes, either way. In fact, her scars only add to his pride. The ones persisting since way back when he was still running rogue, and the ones she has been receiving while fighting alongside him. His lips then, kiss her on the side of her shoulder, on the scar from way back. The rough skin against his lips only makes him kiss the same spot over again, while she holds on to his figure by his neck, the side of her face pressed against his shoulder, looking into the opposite direction.

Sakura doesn't quite get it, herself. The scars she never healed so she never forgets her failures and shortcomings— the scars of catastrophes and her losses, why is it so hard to let them show? She has loved Sasuke for years and there's nothing in the world and the heavens that she could ever want more than his love. And now that he's in her arms, generously showering her with what she most desires, she suddenly has the urge to hide away. Her breathing is erratic, her mind chaotic— she doesn't know how to find her lost solace anymore. She has always thought that she's grown out of her eight-year old self, but the remnants still linger deep down. And she has failed to embrace any of them.

His lips lazily inch close to the discolored skin of her arm, softly pressing against it, careful enough to not hurt her. He's gentle as if she's made of glass— but he knows that she is, no matter how unbreakable. Glass is glass, after all. Her fears that she carries in her heart and her sorrows that she buries deep within it, he wants to claim it all. These scars do still show, so he wonders about the ones that hide deep inside— the ones she can't talk about and the ones he can't see, even with his sharingan. The ones from years of strenuous hard work, the ones from sleepless nights, the ones lingering from his departure and the ones caused by the aftermath of war. The ones from her own battles and the ones she got battling for the rest— he wants to know it all.

Embrace it all.

Because he knows her wounds won't need medical ninjutsu, and that such wounds can only be healed by unconditional love— like his own did. His lips travel up into the nape of her neck, from where he leaves soft kisses up to her jaw, where his lips remain for a while, just breathing in the sweet scent of her hair.

He pulls away from her, hesitant green eyes avoiding to meet his gaze, dusted beneath with a crimson blush. He kisses her cheek, while his thumb against her jaw, elevates her face. "Sakura," he speaks in a raspy voice, almost like a whisper, "don't hide." She looks into his mismatched eyes first, almost dumbfounded, then she nods her head and shyly presses her forehead to his chest, his heartbeat resonating into her ears while she softly breathes out, her hands find his, against her neck and she intertwines her fingers with his, stroking the skin of it, while all he does is watch her do it. She slowly pulls away then, looking into his eyes as she brings his fist close to herself and kisses his knuckles, then the fingers, softly, and finally his dorsum.

He stares at her quietly as her gleaming eyes peek behind their lids to take glances at him, her lips form a soft smile. Without untangling their fingers, he bends his neck to claim her lips into his kiss once more, which isn't very hard considering their proximity. A soft, perpetual, innocent one. His lips against her soft ones, kissing as if she's all that his world revolves around. And she kisses him back, this time being the one to deepen it by shoving her tongue into his warm mouth, tightening her grip around his waist as if there were any space left at all, her arm pulling him closer to her. Tilting her head to her side, she makes more room for their tongue-locking, passionately moving them together as their sweet innocence transits into the opposite. His taste like rust, filling her mouth while he devours her sweet one.

It's surprisingly strange to her but not completely novel by now, that one kiss they share, could bring so much stability to her heart. And if not all, some part of it smiles in peace when She slowly pulls her mouth away from him, and he looks at her with eyes partly unveiled, so tender and loving. Their chests heaving against each other as they endeavour to fill their lacking lungs with the air. He brings their entangled hand closer and kisses her knuckles, before looking at her face once more, smiling and noticing how she doesn't look away this time but kisses him instead.

Disclaimer: Above mentioned characters don't belong to me but to Masashi Kishimoto and the Naruto franchise. But the plot and the writing belongs to me and any resemblance otherwise is completely coincidental.

Author's note: I initially planned to write smut but changed my mind in the middle. Let me know if you guys want me to try this with the smut part too. Thank you for reading and please review if you liked it. Have a good day!