Letters For My Husband

Chapter 4

They were in silence around each other for the first day; avoiding communicates, dancing around verbal speech, walking out of the room whence the other entered. Naruto could not put himself to speculate over their situation, over his own emotional upheaval: For himself, in plain comprehension, he could say he was content, his husband sat safely upon the seat of their living room couch cramped in with a cup of coffee. But Madara's expression remained as it had the entire time he had been within the apartment, and that made Naruto shift in discomfort; Madara had never been an empathetic man, not a man of feelings or or expression, sympathy did not easily stagnate for the man, it had to be coached. Yet, in present, the blond had no idea of how to make his stoic spouse break away from the banes of his mentality; For as it was, Madara sat, in silence, with a cooling cup of caffeine, blankly staring to the carpet with no glimpse of whatever emotion he might harbour, and Naruto could only come to the possibility that the man was recounting his memories.

He had no true understanding of the torment it might cause for the man inside, or if any at all. Still, Naruto knew from what his father had said about Jiraiya that the memories of war were rarely ever a pleasant entrapment. So here they were, in an unfamiliar environment, Naruto did not know what to say, while his husband did not feel safe enough to speak, he was in a plague of self-doubt with his chest sinking ever further. It was odd, especially within his own home while near to the one he loved, feeling uncomfortable.

Yesterday, Madara had met Ino, if only briefly. She had been their ride home from the hospital. As common, she had been bright and cheerful, happily grinning to the man and portraying herself as the least threatening person he could meet, which Naruto had appreciated, as Madara had merely raised his eyebrow and nodded in kind return; more then he commonly did. In his own knowledge of the man, Naruto was almost certain that his spouse could recognize the last name of his own Special Operations soldier, even if he himself had never before met Ino's father he was certain Madara would have at least heard of him. Still, the air around them remained pinched silent, as if there were no topics to consider, no conversations to have.

Eight years, and Naruto had found himself under the bane of an awkward silence with the man he had been in love with for far longer. Unto the blond, the strange situation felt disdainful, the aura surrounding them felt unnatural and unprecedented unto them both. He drew himself upwards, even knowing that he hadn't changed greatly in nearly a decade, Naruto knew that he could at least hold himself rational, be mature and adult-like far more then when he and Madara had wed. He spun on the sole of his foot towards the gloomed couch, and plastered on a smile of determined joy. He padded up to the man without attempting to filter his steps and keeping his own form at least were he was sure Madara could catch him moving from the corner of his iris.

Which was probably why he didn't gain a flinch when he crouched in front of the man. Madara was still staring at the beige carpet, he had no expression, his eyes were blank, and he was methodically tapping at the handle of his cup with his forefinger in morse code. Naruto couldn't read much, but he had been taught basics, and he knew the language when he saw it, though watching his husband continue to tap without -proper- pause did make him sigh slightly. Tentatively, he gripped over the tapping finger and pulled the hand gently over to himself, kissing the bruised knuckles he found there.

It was not much, but Naruto saw the slightened shift it made to the man, the way he blinked the tilt of his lips changing from stoic to unimpressed; both his commonstance expressions. Naruto could not make a clear picture from what he'd seen, from his understanding, but he knew the man had been effected and that his mind was shaking in discomfort for his surroundings and his comprehension therein. Naruto had no clear reckoning with Madara's experience, still he managed to sneak himself into a cuddle underneath the man's arm, allowing his own brain to make the connection. The blond could figure that with what he did know of post-trauma, he knew enough to give enough stabilization to a screaming mind.