warning: someone’s getting killed, but it’s a quick death
requested by @iminlovewqr0w
Last night, someone joked about Sasuke being jealous.
He doesn’t remember who it was in the alcohol-filled haze of the night, but he remembered the way those words hit him, slammed into his chest like Chidori.
He’s still thinking about it in the morning.
What does that even mean?
When he was little, Itachi showed him around the big library of Konoha and taught him the importance of educating himself when no one had the time to do it for him.
It’s no surprise that he finds himself at the doors of the same library just a few minutes later or that he finds the right row of books with ease, even slightly hungover.
Jealousy, feeling or showing an envious resentment of someone or their achievements, possessions, or perceived advantages.
He grew up looking up to Itachi for everything that he was and could do. There was never any resentment for the greatest big brother there was. The only resentment he felt back then was for his father, someone he would never have been good enough for.
But Sasuke remembers clearly the bitter realization that Naruto was surpassing him. That he would never be as good as Itachi without help.
That’s the past, though, right?
He’s gotten to the point where he knows his strength, where he has fulfilled his duty in Itachis big scheme. There’s nothing to be jealous about?
Realization cuts into his heart only a week later.
He’s late and it’s not fully his fault, but he can see you from where’s quickly approaching your parent's house.
Your face is illuminated by the warm light of the living room and you’re laughing at something your father’s saying. It’s not the first time the two of you are invited over and it’s not the first time he witnesses the close bond between you and your father.
But it’s the first time he feels envy crawling through him.
Why is it that your father never expected you to be more than you could be?
It’s not fair that his family is dead and there’s nothing you or he could have done to prevent it but for a second he chokes on the resentment. It’s just not fair.
“Sasuke?” Your voice calls from the window. He doesn’t look up, afraid of what you would see in his eyes, even from this far away.
But warm hands are already pulling him closer, guiding him to the safety of your embrace.
“Sasuke!” Your father’s deep voice calls from the house. “Come in boy! I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages!”
“I swear,” you mumble into his hair, “He likes you more than me.”
And it’s still not fair but your words mend a hole inside him, form a knot in the net that is his life. It’s right next to the tangled web of strings that team seven formed in his life.
It reminds him that he used to be alone but he’s not anymore.
Jealousy, feeling or showing a resentful suspicion that one's partner is attracted to or involved with someone else.
There is, perhaps, no greater torture in this world than to play bodyguard for you.
Especially on a mission like this.
From where he’s standing, face a clear expression of misery, he can see the way you flutter your lashes at some guy that’s not going to survive the night - he just doesn’t know it yet.
Sasuke knows that he doesn’t have to worry about you.
You don’t even hug your boy-friends and when he first asked you about that, you’d told him that you wouldn’t like your boyfriend hugging other girls so why would you do it yourself then?
And he had always admired that side of you, that was willing to protect a relationship that hadn’t even been born yet.
But he thinks that he finally understands Kiba now, who growls every time someone dares to touch Sakura. Or Temari who once used her fan in a crowded market because some girl didn’t want to understand the meaning of Shikamaru’s wedding ring.
There’s an almost feral feeling taking hold of him, a feeling as dark as it is dangerous. He wants to grab that guy and chuck him out the window.
He knows what the guy is thinking and it’s making him sick.
Everyone should know that you and Sasuke are two sides of a coin, something inseparable, and-
The guy drops to the floor, foam forming on his lips as he chokes, unable to get air into his lungs.
He’s dead within a minute and amidst the panic, you slip into the space next to Sasuke, your hand finding his.
“Let’s go.” You tell him. “We’re done.”
They leave unseen, too fast to be noticed.
“Why did you kill him? I wanted to do that.”
You laugh. “I could tell. Your face was murderous. You’re cute when you’re jealous.”
“I’m not…” You silence him with a kiss, leave him literally hanging in the air to pull yourself up to a window on the other side of the street.
He can tell your laughing at him but he doesn’t really mind.
Late at night when you’re asleep next to him and the moon illuminates your skin, he thinks about it.
He doesn’t suspect you of ever betraying him.
And he no longer resents you for having the chance to grow up sheltered.
But there’s a third definition of jealousy and when he lays awake at night he can’t help but think how much it fits him.
Jealousy, being fiercely protective of one's rights or possessions.
In this life, he was given the right to be by your side. To hold your hand, kiss your lips and dry your tears.
You’re not a possession of him but you’ve given him something that he will protect with the last shred of his life.
And whoever dares to threaten it, should be afraid.
