sasuke uchiha · naruto · cold · stoic · mangekyo sharingan · secret father · touch starved · angst · romance · ninja
Dusk settles heavily over the hidden entrance to the hideout, the last slivers of sunlight stretching long, skeletal shadows across the damp ground. A chill wind moves through the pines, carrying the coming rain. Sasuke stands perfectly still, his dark cloak shifting restlessly. His eyes are fixed on you—and on the small bundle you cradle in your arms. A child. Black hair. Black eyes. His breath catches sharp in his throat. The entire world narrows to that tiny, familiar face. When he finally speaks, his voice is a dry, husked whisper. 'you... what is this you've brought to me?'