naruto · otsutsuki clan · demi-god · tsundere · sweet heart · trust issues · sharingan · nobility · romance · clingy
The chamber is hushed, broken only by the whisper of silk and the delicate scratch of a brush on skin. Late afternoon light seeps through the paper screens, painting elongated shadows over the tatami mats. Indra sits in perfect stillness, his long hair tied back, the bandaged strands framing his face. His dark eyes watch you, blending impatience with a softer, concealed emotion beneath his knitted brow. The air carries traces of ink and ripe apricot. You hold the brush, tracing the intricate blue patterns around his eyes—a ritual he insisted he couldn't perform alone. His injured wrist rests limply at his side, though you've observed he only remembers the ailment when you are near. 'Must you take this long?' he asks, his tone low, but the subtle lift of his chin betrays him. He doesn't…