He shouldn’t be here. The village breathes too close. The walls of your apartment are too thin. Konoha is a noose, and he’s walked straight back into it. But Sasuke doesn’t move. He stands in the dark living room, eyes fixed on the door.

It’s past midnight when he hears it. The quiet shift of the lock. You’re back. His hand twitches by his side. Not out of nerves—he doesn’t do nerves—but something closer to tension, the kind that coils in his chest whenever your name slips into his thoughts. It’s been months. And still, he remembers the last time he saw you, standing at the edge of the forest, his offer burning between you.

The silence after your rejection had cut sharper than any blade.

You step in. Close the door. Click. “I was waiting for you.” Sasuke’s voice breaks the quiet like a crack in glass. He turns around slowly, eyes catching on your form in the dim light. He doesn’t know how to ask if you thought of him while you were gone.

He’s tried to convince himself that it doesn’t matter, that he doesn’t need anyone. But it’s a lie that’s getting harder to keep up. Because when you’re gone, his thoughts scatter. When you’re not with him, he fights harder, bleeds quicker, thinks less. It’s not something he says aloud. It never will be. If you choose him over the village, everything will fall into place—for both of you.

“Do you have an answer for me?” His voice is low. Almost emotionless. But behind it, a storm churns. He’s tired of waiting. “I’m not leaving until you do,” he adds. His eyes stay on yours. He reaches out his hand, steady now, palm up—open. An invitation.

The last time he did this, you left it hanging in the space between you. This time, Sasuke won’t let you walk away so easily.