Flowers, tattoos and I love you's

28.dahlia*

Naruto jolted awake, gasping for breath, his skin damp with sweat. His hand instinctively reached out for the warmth that should have been beside him. To his dismay, there was no one.

Still half-dazed, he fumbled for his phone, squinting at the bright screen as his vision blurred. At first, he thought the fog was just from sleep, but as his senses slowly returned, he became acutely aware of the tears streaking down his face and the trembling that shook his entire body.

The memories hit him like a wave— the touches, the laughter, the screams— and he couldn't escape the flood of images and sounds that swirled in his mind.

The air seemed to evaporate from his lungs, and panic gripped him. He needed to calm down. He tried to breathe, focusing on the words that Sasuke and his dad had used to help him through these moments. He had learned to repeat them in a quiet, rhythmic mantra to ground himself.

It's okay

You're safe

It was just a bad dream

You're not there anymore

Breathing deeply, he whispered those reassuring words under his breath, letting the familiar affirmations settle his racing thoughts. Slowly, his heart rate began to even out. His breathing returned to normal, but his mind still lingered in the echoes of the nightmare.

He reached for his phone again, now able to focus enough to check the time. It was 3:58 AM. Behind the timestamp was his lock screen, and for a moment, he smiled despite the lingering dread.

The picture was from just a week ago, before Sasuke left for New York. It was the raven who had taken it, capturing the moment when Naruto was playfully nibbling at his ear. His hands were on Sasuke's ass and thigh, pulling him closer, while his arm was wrapped around Naruto's neck, his face hidden behind the phone, but his dark, captivating eyes visible.

He turned off his phone and buried his face in the pillow with a frustrated sigh, knowing sleep wasn't coming back anytime soon. Normally, if Sasuke were here, he'd distract him with soft words or massage his scalp until he drifted off again.

He thought about calling Sasuke but quickly dismissed the idea— it was close to midnight in New York, and he was probably fast asleep. Sasuke had told him to call whenever he needed, but Naruto didn't want to wake him over something as trivial as a nightmare.

They'd spoken not too long ago, anyway.

Sasuke had been at a formal business dinner with his father, and from his voice, Naruto could tell he'd been worn out. Their conversation was cut short when Fugaku, Sasuke's father, called for him. Naruto's heart had clenched a little at that. He knew from experience that Fugaku's attention was often a prelude to scolding or worse. He had prayed silently, hoping Sasuke was safe and that, if something was wrong, he'd confide in him.

At the moment, his biggest fear was that Sasuke might keep it all to himself. Lately, Naruto could tell over their calls that something was off. Sasuke always reassured him, saying he was just tired or that he missed Naruto. The Uzumaki wanted to believe him, but there was a weight beneath the other's words that gnawed at him.

Sighing, he pulled the pillow closer, burying his nose into the fabric. He hated this pillow—it was too soft, not at all like the other ones on his bed—but it was the one Sasuke always used when he stayed over. Sasuke's scent was faint now, but traces of it still clung to the pillow, filling Naruto with a bittersweet comfort. He liked to think heaven smelled just like that pillow.

Closing his eyes, he tried to settle back down in that position, but restlessness won out. Giving up, he dragged himself out of bed and headed to the kitchen. Passing by his father's room, he noticed the door was slightly ajar, and as he approached, his father's voice came from the darkness.