Day 18 – Comfortable Silence

emiwrites:

Resting on his wife’s lap, Sasuke feels like sleeping.

Lying on his side, Sakura’s thighs, smooth and cool pillow nicely his head. Her hand is like a feather, gentle and light, brushing his hair and scratching his scalp—his spine shudders and his ears twitch; he’s basking in the exquisite sensations.

Her arms are completely bare, he feels no bracelets hanging on her wrists. Her hands have a nice and clean smell, like antiseptic but the scent is so faint Sasuke can barely perceive it since he’s so used to it; first from his past days in Orochimaru’s lair, then from the time he’s spent in the hospital after the war. However, he has since long grown to appreciate it, having associated the smell with his wife.

Her fingers untangle his black hair, tucking loose locks behind his ear before he feels her nails gently and slowly grazing his scalp. Sasuke knows she knows the way she moves her fingers on his scalp makes him tingle; she can feel the smallest tremors that run through his body and he’s quite certain she’s smiling above him, amused by the way his body reacts to her. With her other hand, the fluffy puff of the mimikaki goes swoosh and whoosh around his ear.

As far as he can remember, Sakura’s touch has always been therapeutic to him. It’s a gentle touch, tender and warm. He feels calmer, more serene.

(As a matter of fact, he sleeps best when he has his arm draped over her, her hand covering his or when Sakura cuddles him from behind with her hand inside his shirt, as though she’s checking his body temperature.

But, if Sasuke’s honest, he knows she does this to feel his muscles.)

When she touches him, Sasuke feels like he’s lying on the grass on a spring day.

It’s soothing.

Sure, there are times when they are feverish and passionate—and they happen more often than Sasuke will ever admit—but these quiet moments are the ones Sasuke relishes in the most. Words are silent and eyes don’t meet but it’s intimate and very, very peaceful. It’s in the way she touches him, when she grazes lightly over the helix of his ear with her nails, when she tucks his hair behind his ear because she doesn’t want loose strands to get in the way of her ear cleaning. It’s in the way she moves the mimikaki, drawing lazy circles around his ear with the white puff, and then picking on his ear with the other end.

It’s a nice feeling indeed—to feel cherished.