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