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Sasuke wakes up to the sound of soft music filtering throughout their little one bedroom apartment, as has become the norm since they got married (married!!) . She’s always known that Sakura was an early bird, but she never knew that she was a morning person. The two aren’t interchangeable whatsoever, Sasuke insists.
She finds she doesn’t mind it, though. Climbing out of bed and shrugging on a large t-shirt over her bare body, Sasuke feels almost like she’s walking on clouds as she pads over to the sound of music, humming and the clattering of steels.
What greets her is the image of her wife ( wife!!) moving about in the kitchen, an apron wrapped around her waist and short hair clipped back from her face. There’s some flour smudged on her cheek that she hasn’t seemed to notice, and Sasuke feels a thoroughly endeared smile tugging at her lips.
Leaning on the doorframe, she reaches up to run a hand through her hair as she watches Sakura flit about, tending to this and that, pink hair slightly unkempt and green eyes bright, looking like an angel that’s been sent straight from heaven just for Sasuke.
She waits, happy to just enjoy the sight of her wife doing what she does, for Sakura to notice her presence. When she finally does, it’s with a startle and a cute little squeak that escapes her pretty heart-shaped mouth.
“Sasuke-kun!”
“Morning,” Sasuke greets, voice still a little husky from sleep, and Sakura’s cheeks tinge pink at the sound. She reaches up to run her hand through her short black locks again, and already knows without having to look that the spikes are sticking up all over the place. Her hair has always had a habit of running wild and being utterly untameable.
If she had it her way, she’d cut it all off. But Sakura loves having something to pull on when she’s—
“Good Morning, my love,” Sakura replies, beaming up at her like an angel. Unbidden, Sasuke’s heart stutters in her chest, and she has to refrain from sighing like a love struck schoolgirl at the endearment. Instead, she approaches her wife (wife!!) and wraps her arm around her waist.
“No work today?” she asks because, truthfully speaking, she usually doesn’t get to wake up to the sight of her, as the hospital takes up most of her mornings.
“No, I’ve been given the weekend off after the fiasco that happened yesterday with the seven half-dead jounin who were admitted to my ward,” Sakura sighs, absentmindedly rubbing her temples as if just thinking about it sprang forth another headache. “I can’t remember the last time the hospital was so hectic.”
“Probably after the war. It’s peacetime now, after all,” Sasuke says, urging her closer so that she can help relieve the ache in her head with her sole hand. She’s glad Sakura has the day off. They can spend the whole day together; Sasuke needs to take a trip down to the farmers market at some point, and Sakura happens to be a pretty mean haggler…
“Probably,” Sakura groans in pleasure as Sasuke begins moving her hand down to her shoulders, massaging the knots out as best as she can, “But I could have handled it. Shishou worries too much.”
“You don’t worry enough ,” Sasuke scolds her, moving her hand and instead tilting her chin in her direction. She drops a quick peck on her pink lips. “Ridiculous woman.”
“Mmm,” Sakura grins against her mouth, hands gripping her waist and pulling their bodies closer, “I've been promoted from Annoying woman to Ridiculous woman. Go me.”
“You’ll be a Wanted woman if I decide to tattle on you to Tsunade that you’ve been picking up extra shifts despite her warnings,” Sasuke breathes as she veers her lips to the right to taste the skin of Sakura’s jaw and down her neck.
“You wouldn’t!” she gasps, grin widening and bringing Sasuke’s attention to the charming little dimple on her left cheek. She dips her tongue in the indentation, relishing in her giggle at the sensation.
“Try me,” she whispers in her ear, ivory teeth nipping gently at the soft lobe before sucking at it.
“Even if I told you I’ve been up all morning making a special treat for you?” she pouts playfully, pulling back slightly to look her in the eye. Her jade eyes sparkle captivatingly under the sun’s rays, a kaleidoscope of greens and blues and golden hues glinting up at her.
Sasuke feels herself falling a little deeper every time she catches that gaze.
“You’re a terrible cook,” she says, removing her arm before she pulls out a chair at the table littered with baking utensils and ingredients. Her voice is still raspy with sleep, and slightly deeper than normal.
Sakura swats her with a rag lightly, willing her cheeks to cool down once more. Sasuke’s morning voice was always so incredibly distracting.
“ Mean Sasuke-chan,” she sticks her tongue out, hands on her hips and laughter in her voice. “I’m baking, not cooking. And I’m an excellent cook, I’ll have you know.”
Sasuke smirks, eyes catching on the errant strands of pink hair being illuminated under the rays of the sun. “Lying won’t make it true, Sakura -chan.”
She flushes immediately at the suffix foreign to Sasuke’s lips, and pats her red cheeks with her hands lightly.
“I’m not lying —”
She’s cut off abruptly when her wife (wife!!) leans up, halfway out of her chair, and kisses her soundly on the lips. Sakura immediately discards whatever argument she was about to make and instead presses herself closer to Sasuke.
It’s only when she begins to feel a little lightheaded from the lack of oxygen that Sasuke finally pulls away (a terribly difficult task, what with her wife staring up at her with glazed eyes and parted pink lips, plump and tempting).
“If I knew when I was twelve that all I had to do was kiss you to shut you up, maybe we could have been married long ago,” Sasuke says as she sits back down and picks up one of the cherry bakewells sitting around. Taking a bite, she smirks up at her blushing cherry blossom.
“Stop bullying me!” she says, falling into the seat beside her and clinging onto her arm. Sakura buries her face into her neck and hides her grin behind short black strands.
“I’m sorry, wife,” (wife!!) Sasuke chuckles, twirling a short strand of pink hair around her finger. Her lips somehow find themselves at her neck. “How about I make it up to you?”
Sasuke places wet kisses along the line of her throat, nipping and pecking here and there, as Sakura squirms in her seat. She always was very sensitive here.
“Sasuke-kun,” Sakura moans, chest heaving as her lone hand reaches up to cup her breast. “Not now. I’ve still got more to bake.”
Reluctantly, Sasuke gives her one last kiss and pulls away. “Fine,” she breathes, holding her gaze. “Later.”
Sakura flushes, unbearably pretty, and bites her lips. Cruel. “Later,” she confirms with a nod. Sasuke settles down, content with that.
“So,” she says once Sakura has gone back to pulling out yet another tray from the oven, “Who are you making these for?”
“I told you! They’re for you!” she beams as she places the tray down and takes off the mitts, looking adorably disheveled, “I wanted to see if I could make something not too sweet that you would like. What did you think of it?”
Sasuke’s chest warms at that. The gesture was kind, just like her.
“It was good,” she responds with a secret smile, neck heating, “Perfect.”
“You really think so?” Sakura laughs in delight.
“Just like you,” she says.
“Stop flirting with me, Uchiha-san,” Sakura pouts playfully, cheeks as red as Sasuke’s favourite fruit.
Sasuke simply smiles in response, grabbing her hand. “Come, Uchiha-san ,” she says, leading her to the table to sit down. “Feed me?”
Sakura blushes a furious red, but is indescribably pleased as she shuffles closer and leans over to grab one of the bakewells. Sasuke watches her, entranced, as she goes through the motions.
The treat is at her lips now and Sakura is urging her to open her mouth with her viridian gaze. “Here you go, my love.”
She opens her mouth, content to sit there as her wife lifts the treat up to her lips. “Mm,” she hums after another bite, “Really good. We should’ve had these at our wedding.”
Sakura blushes, wiping away some crumbs at the corner of her mouth. “I was far too busy getting ready that day. There’s no way I would’ve had time to bake, no matter how small our wedding,” she argues, though the look on her face betrays how pleased she is at Sasuke’s comment.
“…That is true,” Sasuke murmurs, clutching Sakura’s waist and abruptly pulling her onto her lap. Her lips quirk upwards at the minute yelp that leaves her mouth with the sudden movement. “And you looked beautiful that day.”
Sakura’s blush has reached a shade so deep that Sasuke almost begins to worry that the blood may be rushing far too quickly to her head. But her wife retains composure and lifts her hand to feed Sasuke yet another bite of the dessert.
“Well, of course. I had to look my best when marrying the love of my life,” Sakura murmurs, dimples winking and softening Sasuke’s heart tenfold. “I’ve dreamed of becoming your wife since I was a little girl, you know.”
Heart in her throat, Sasuke simply looks at the pink haired woman she’s known since childhood in awe, existing like something from her loveliest dreams, and can’t quite believe that she gets to call Sakura her’s.
Can’t believe she gets to call her Sakura Uchiha.
It doesn’t feel real, she thinks. The prettiest girl in the world is sitting on her lap, humming a silly tune, feeding her a cherry bakewell that she’d baked for her because she knows how much Sasuke dislikes sweets, and she loves her. She loves her.
Maybe this is the calm before the storm. Maybe this is a false sense of security bestowed upon her, just so that this calm, content feeling of joy can be snatched away from her one day when she least expects it. Maybe she will be punished once she realises it really was too good to be true, and sent to whatever dark place her brother likely is, for the weight of her sins are far too heavy to be redeemed. For the pain and anguish and heartbreak she had bestowed on the only woman she’ll ever love.
Sasuke will welcome that tragedy with open arms. She isn’t scared anymore. She has never been this happy in all her life. And love has never looked more beautiful than it does on Sakura.