Save me | yandere! (various uchiha) x reader

Thirty-three

The night was quiet, a thick, heavy kind of silence that wrapped around me like a suffocating blanket.

I stirred from my sleep, barely aware, but the faint sounds at the edge of consciousness pulled me back to awareness.

The gentle rustling of fabric, the soft creak of footsteps. I blinked, adjusting to the darkness, and that's when I saw him.

Madara stood at the edge of the bed, his broad silhouette unmistakable in the dim moonlight that filtered through the curtains.

He was holding Arata, my son's small body limp in his arms, still sound asleep. For a moment, my heart stilled, a strange sense of alarm washing over me as I watched, holding my breath.

"What...?" I whispered, barely audible, but Madara's gaze flicked down to me, sharp and assessing.

"It's late," he murmured. "I'm taking him to his own room."

A surge of emotions hit me all at once...relief, confusion, fear. I didn't move or say anything else, watching in silence as Madara carefully cradled Arata's head, adjusting him before turning toward the door.

He walked slowly, with a kind of gentleness that felt foreign on him, as though he were carrying something fragile, precious. It was a side of him I hadn't seen before, a glimpse into something he kept hidden.

The door clicked shut behind him, and I was left in the silence, feeling the weight of that small moment linger around me.

I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, my thoughts swirling. It didn't make sense. None of this made sense...this man who had torn through my life, taken so much from me, yet held my son with a softness I couldn't understand.

A man who could tear apart worlds with his ambition, yet was now pacing the halls at night to carry a sleeping child to bed.

Before I could make sense of it, the door opened once more. Madara reappeared, moving back into the room with that same quiet grace.

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable in the dark as he approached the bed and crouched down beside me.

"You didn't need to worry," he said softly, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. His touch, surprisingly tender, caught me off guard.

I hesitated, unsure how to respond. All the things I wanted to say, demand, and question were tangled up in my throat, held back by the weariness that had settled in my bones.

He seemed to sense my hesitation, and without another word, he lifted me slightly, pulling me against him, holding me in his arms in a way that felt strange.

Intimate.

And for once, there was no force or pressure...just a quiet kind of calm as he held me.

"There won't be a wedding," he said softly, his voice almost gentle as he broke the silence.

My eyes snapped open, confusion and disbelief twisting in my mind. "What?" I whispered, my voice shaky, laced with confusion.

"Not yet," he clarified, his tone steady. "Instead... we'll hold an engagement party."

An engagement party. The words echoed in my mind, foreign and unexpected. I searched his face, trying to understand the meaning behind it. "Why?"

He didn't look away, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that unsettled me. "A public gesture," he murmured. "A way to keep appearances without the pressure of marriage. For now."

His thumb brushed lightly over my cheek, and despite myself, I felt something in me relax, some of the fear and tension melting away, though I couldn't shake the unease that lingered.

"Just rest," he said, his voice low, almost comforting as he held me close. "We'll talk more tomorrow."

The weariness settled back over me, pulling me under. And as I drifted off, I couldn't shake the strange feeling of being caught in something I couldn't fully understand—a dance of control, protection, and something else I couldn't quite name.

But for the first time in a long while, I let myself give in, sinking into the quiet, knowing the battle would return with the morning light.