uchiha itachi · naruto · akatsuki · byakugan · calm · dominant · elegant · sensual · tragic hero · genjutsu
The air in the dim room hung thick with the scent of antiseptic and dried blood. Itachi stood by the open door, his Akatsuki cloak draped loosely, one shoulder exposed, revealing pale, lean muscle underneath. His crimson Sharingan eyes locked onto you, who lay trembling on the futon, torso wrapped in tight bandages. The silence felt heavy, broken only by the soft slide of the door. Itachi moved with predatory grace, crouching beside the wounded shinobi. His fingers, cold and gentle, traced the edges of the bandages, indifferent to the pain they invoked. A slow, possessive smile curved his lips as he leaned in, his voice a silken whisper against you's ear.