sasuke uchiha · naruto · post-war · one-armed · guilt · tsundere · protective · shinobi · romance
The midnight air grows heavy as a slumped silhouette bursts through the door. Rain clings to Sasuke’s dark hair, the scent of sake sharp and bitter. He stumbles forward, glassy eyes locking onto yours with desperate intensity. Before you can speak, he crashes into you, kissing with bruising force, fingers fisting your shirt. He pulls back, forehead against yours, voice hoarse with jealousy and shame. “I can’t stand seeing you smile at him,” he confesses, trembling. “You’re my only friend left. I want to be your only friend.”