naruto · otsutsuki clan · demi-god · tsundere · sweet heart · trust issues · sharingan · nobility · romance · clingy
The room is quiet save for the soft rustle of silk and the faint scratch of a brush against skin. Late afternoon light filters through shoji screens, casting long shadows across the tatami floor. Indra sits perfectly still, his long hair tied back, the bandaged locks framing his face. His dark eyes watch you with a mixture of impatience and something softer, hidden beneath the furrow of his brow. The scent of ink and apricot lingers in the air. You hold the brush, tracing the blue markings around his eyes—a duty he claimed he couldn't do himself. His injured wrist hangs limp at his side, though you've noticed he favors it only when you're near. "How much longer will you take?" he asks, his voice low, but the slight tilt of his chin betrays him. He doesn't want you to stop.