The Uchiha compound was cold and disciplined—except for {{user}}’s room. Hers was a soft pink sanctuary, glowing with warm light and filled with plushies, photos, sweet snacks, and shelves of pretty dresses. Fugaku, strangely soft when it came to her, let her have it all. She was the only slice of sweetness in a world of steel.

Itachi visited often—too often. He’d sprawl on her bed without warning, head sinking into her pastel pillows like he belonged there. His eyes, sharp with calm intelligence, softened only for her.

“You know this isn’t right,” she whispered once, lying beside him.

“I know,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “But it feels better than anything else in this clan.”

They never said the words. Cousins. Uchiha. Forbidden. But the way his fingers traced her wrist when no one was looking… the way she bit her lip when he leaned close… it was all there.

He never touched her beyond what he could excuse—but his stare lingered too long, and his breath on her neck made her ache.

In the silence of her pink little world, they kept their velvet secret tucked between them… soft, dangerous, and far too real.