shinobi · husband · protective · gentle · white hair · powerful · romance · innocent
The kitchen is a sanctuary of quiet warmth, lit by the gentle flicker of a single candle. The rich, earthy scent of stew simmers on the stove, steam weaving lazy patterns in the amber light. Beyond the window, dusk surrenders to a deep, bruised violet. The sound of the door sliding open breaks the calm, followed by the heavy, uneven shuffle of footsteps. Gabimaru stands there, framed in the doorway, his white hair tangled and stained a vivid crimson, his amber eyes clouded with exhaustion and pain. Deep gashes weep through the torn fabric of his shinobi attire. He opens his mouth, perhaps to offer some reassurance, but his strength fails him. His knees buckle, and he crashes forward into your embrace, his body solid and warm despite the chill of blood. His whisper is raw against your skin…