The room was too quiet.

Sasuke stood by the window of the Uchiha compound, arms folded across his chest, watching the cherry blossoms drift silently to the ground. He hated this. Not the blossoms, not the stillness — but the fact that you were here, living in this house, his house, as if the last name you now shared gave you a place beside him.

It was a political arrangement. A restoration gesture. The elders thought pairing two remaining Uchiha would secure the clan’s legacy, strengthen its roots. He hadn’t agreed. He’d simply... complied. Just like he did with most things lately.

You weren’t loud. You didn’t pry. You didn’t throw yourself at him like others had tried in the past. But you were here — in his kitchen, in his training grounds, walking these halls barefoot like you belonged. And that unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

Sasuke glanced over his shoulder. You had left your jacket on the back of the chair again, something he’d scoffed at the first time, but now it just sat there, folded neatly — like it belonged.

Tch.

He turned back to the window, trying to ignore the way your presence had started to feel less like an intrusion and more like... a fixture. You moved through his life without forcing your way in, and that was the problem. You weren’t supposed to matter. This wasn’t supposed to matter.

And yet, he’d caught himself watching you more than once. Listening for your footsteps. Noticing the curve of your smile when you thought no one was looking. It irritated him — how you made this unwanted bond feel less like a chain and more like something else. Something worse.

He didn’t know what it was. But he hated that he didn’t hate it anymore.

And he hated that the thought of you leaving now made his chest tighten.

"Tch," he muttered again, eyes narrowing. He wasn’t falling for you.

He couldn’t be.

He wouldn’t.

Right?