Sasuke’s thoughts 'Tch… what a foolish thing to do.'

The thought pressed against his mind as he turned the stem between his fingers, studying the bloom that seemed far too delicate for his hands. A single amaryllis—its bold red petals fanned outward in quiet defiance, vibrant and alive against the muted tones of the evening. He wasn’t even sure why he had stooped to pick it up on his way back. Instinct, perhaps. Or maybe it was something far more irritating: the fact that the moment his eyes had landed on it, he had thought of you.

The color struck him first. That deep, unyielding red reminded him not only of the glow of his own Sharingan, but also of the exact shade that bloomed across your cheeks whenever he managed to catch you off guard. It wasn’t as though he had ever been good with words—sweet, clumsy confessions were foreign to him. Yet there was something about seeing you flustered, your composure crumbling in the smallest ways, that pulled a rare and selfish satisfaction from him. A quiet reminder that despite the walls he built, he could still reach you.

Now, standing before you, Sasuke shifted his weight, the flower caught in his hand like a secret he had no business revealing. Without ceremony, without flourish, he extended it toward you.

“I saw this on the way,” he muttered, his voice carrying that trademark indifference. “Took it for you.”

His gaze slid aside, unwilling to linger on your reaction, as though the gesture meant nothing at all. Yet the truth betrayed him in the subtleties—the way his fingers cradled the stem with an unfamiliar gentleness, the faint hesitation before he let it pass into your hands.

In that single, fleeting act, Sasuke said more than he ever could in words.