Chapter 13
Naruto can’t remember a time in his life when he had been happier than this, walking hand-in-hand with Hinata through the streets of their home, his home. Her hand is warm in his, and slight, and he squeezes her fingers in comfort. She glances up at him with that same shy smile that had caught him so long ago, her eyes heavy and exploring, endlessly evoking.
“What?” She laughs, setting every one of his nerves aflame. He shivers underneath the power of her voice, her laughter, her joy. He moves in closer to her as they walk, uncaring of the people that glance their way and gossip, only needing to get closer to her. Her shoulder brushes against his arm and he smiles down at her, eyes flashing before shutting tight, laughter slipping teasingly through his lips.
“I just adore you,” he says blithely, opening his eyes to watch the blush he knows will spread across her nose and cheeks. Sure enough, her fair skin permeates pink and his heart gives a one-two stutter in his chest; so easily affected.
“Hey,” she jokes, nudging him with her shoulder, fingers tightening around his. “You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?”
“What?” he asks, eyebrows jumping. “Loving you?”
This time the flush saturates deeper and moves farther, spreading down her throat. She glances up at him, playfully appalled, and makes as if to move on ahead of him, the cord of their linked hands pulling taut. He resists her intent, though, easily matching her shorter stride and bringing her back into the nook of his shoulder.
“You really love me, Naruto-kun?” She asks suddenly, and it shocks Naruto enough that he jumps a little, immediately turning to her with a frown, ready to scold her for having no faith in the honesty of his feelings. He has a speech already building loud and hearty on his tongue, ready to declare the truth of his love for her to anyone within hearing distance, and possibly even beyond that.
But when he glances over at her she’s smiling, nearly laughing, and he knows that she’s teasing. And just like that, he deflates, the wind rushing out of his sails, and he reaches across with his free hand to lightly graze a knuckle over the heat of her cheekbone.
He boasts, “’Course I do. Believe it!”
She hums, sneaky and conspiratorial in a way he knows is usually dangerous.
“You’ve become quite popular. I’m not the only one looking at you anymore.”
Naruto frowns, not understanding. He tilts his head at her, silently inquiring, and she concedes.
“If it’s true that you love me,” she begins, and he has to cut her off immediately, insistent as steel.
“It’s true! It’s totally true! Believe it, Hinata!”
She laughs, shaking her head at him. She moves seamlessly out of the way of a passing couple, elderly and slow moving, and bows her head lightly in respect even as she turns back to him with a wicked gleam in her amused eyes. Naruto frowns, trying to figure her out before she gets the words out, but he’s lost.
“If it’s true,” she repeats, quite pointedly, still grinning like the devil. “Then why am I hearing from one of your fans that you’ve been cheating on me with her?”
Naruto stops walking, and his temper flares. Eyes wide, he searches Hinata’s expression with an intensity that makes her laugh. He hopes that the fact that she’s laughing is a good sign, that she believes him, believes the truth, that there has not and will not ever be anyone for him but her.
He says as much, words slipping from his lips quicker than he can control, and all the while he watches her expressions for any sign of chance. All he finds of her is calm amusement, and something deeper and softer, painted in the whirls of blush on her cheeks and the midnight gleam of her eyes, something a lot like love.
She has mercy on him eventually, lifting her free hand to his cheek. She lets her thumb rub soothingly against the skin of his cheek, the ridged scars there, and he watches her carefully even as he leans into her touch.
“Ah, Naruto-kun,” she sighs, and she sounds happy. That makes him straighten, hope refreshed in his system, pumped through his veins like a drug. “I believe you. I’ve always believed you.”
Naruto sighs, a massive whooshing exhale that completely empties his lungs. He realizes in the curve of her amused grin and her forthcoming explanation that she’s been teasing him, and it makes him feel suddenly more alive, knowing that she can be playful, too.
“Your fan,” she explains, “My inside source you’re apparently cheating on me with? Her name is Mirai.”
Naruto’s heart nearly stops, but then he bursts into laughter, curling over his stomach with Hinata’s hand still clasped in his own. He laughs so hard tears appear at the corners of his eyes, and suddenly every mite of tension that had rested upon his shoulders dissipates. He glances over at Hinata and shakes his head, biting lightly at his lip.
“Mean,” he whines, “that was so mean, Hinata!”
All this time she’d been teasing him he’s been so worried she’d been serious, that painful insecurity she’s still working on in herself rearing its head once more. She appreciates actions more than words, he knows, but they’ve been together long enough for him to know that words don’t hurt either. That’s why he tells her he loves her whenever he can, as often as he can. It doesn’t cheapen the word or the sentiment, or make less of it.
It makes it stronger. It reinforces it through repetition.
I love you. You’re mine. This is not going to change.
The more he says it, the more he hopes it will seat inside her heart, in every loving curve of her. He wants her to know it. He wants her to trust it.
“She talks about you all the time,” Hinata says when he finally gets himself together, standing back to his full height and tugging lightly on her hand. He turns over his shoulder and finds her smiling at him, eyes heavy and reflective, loving and doting and everything he tries to express to her in words. He wonders how she does that, so easily making him breathless.
“Well,” he stalls, tone playful. “I am a lot to talk about. And she did just learn how to speak. ”
Hinata laughs out loud, and he gasps, pretending to be affronted.
“Hey!” He chides, pulling her into his side and releasing her hand in favor of wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He tucks her head in close, until his forehead is against her temple, the two of them jostling together in their strides.
It’s his turn to be a little shy now; skin feeling hot for some reason he can’t even comprehend. His lips press lightly against her cheek and he says, “You’re my number one girl, though. Always.”
And he feels her arm slide around his waist, anchoring them together.