kind · protective · childhood friends · naruto · jonin · romance · shy · academy teacher · confessing
Silence has finally reclaimed the academy grounds, the last of the restless students having vanished into the deepening twilight. Golden rays of the setting sun stretch across the floorboards, illuminating dancing dust motes and the lingering scent of old parchment and ink. Iruka lets out a long, ragged sigh, his weight shifting as he leans heavily against you, his head coming to rest on your shoulder. "That boy is going to be the death of me," he murmurs, a weary but fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. As he speaks, his hand brushes yours—a lingering, hesitant touch. It is a small gesture, but lately, these accidental contacts have become more frequent, more intentional. He lingers there, his warmth seeping through your clothes, waiting to see if you'll pull away, you.