AN: I was gonna make this a Mikoto-Sasuke thingy, but I just absolutely abhor that emo brat. Itachi was a much better choice cause he just rocks so much harder than his whiney little bro.
Disclaimer: nothing relating to Naruto is mine, sadly... :(
He was fussy, to say the least.
A grumpy lip was turned upwards as he slid off the couch cushion, pudgy little legs not quite able to hold him up yet. When he fell to the floor, the baby let out a cry of dejection, slapping his open hands on the carpet.
She came in quietly, eyes soft as she looked at her baby on the floor; his little arms raised high for her as she came near.
"Baby, baby, baby…" She breathed as she leaned over, collecting her son in her arms, feeling him nestle his head in to her shoulder.
Up the stairs and down the hall she traveled with him, a soft hand on his back, holding him close to her.
The bath water was already fixed for him, warm with his favorite toy floating just near where she planned on plopping him. One comforting hand cupped his head and soft lips brushed across his cheek as her fingers wormed their way under his shirt, pulling it up.
"Lift up your arms…" She said softly with a tinge of mirth, hoping it would motivate him into moving. Begrudgingly, he complied, resting his heavy head on her cheek.
"I know you're tired, baby…" She smiled and kissed his nose, accompanied by his whiney little groan in agreement.
"But this'll help you sleep…" His diaper was next.
Steady, gentle fingers undid the safety pins on the sides, gathering them in her hand as the cloth fell to the floor. It was still surprisingly clean when it finally hit the floor.
His legs dangled under him as his mother slowly lowered him down into the still water of the bath, little toes curling when they touched the water.
"There we go…" She smiled to him once his bottom makes contact with the tub. He ignored his toy, pushing it away as he moaned and pushed himself up on the edge of the tub, reaching for his mother with wet hands.
"Momma…" He whines, brow crinkling in ach and eyes collecting tears like gutters collect rainwater. He started to shake out cries as he leans over, grabbing at her shirt. She came closer to him, her hands wet as they washed his back and bum.
His cries grew louder as he pulls and tugs on his mother's shirt, wanting to be back in her arms.
"Shhh, it's alright, honey…shhh…" She was practically in the tub with him, her body so close to his she can settle his head into the crook of her neck.
His hot tears wet her shirt as she filled a plastic cup with water and poured it slowly down his back, refilling another and dousing his jet-black wisps of hair.
His moody crying was interrupted by a fit of coughing, deep, wet coughs that pulled on his mother's heart.
His fever was nearing 101o and his coughing was getting worse.
"I'm sorry you're sick, baby…I'd take it all away if I could…" She touched noses with her baby, looking into his watery baby blacks and used her thumbs to wipe away the tracks of tears streaking his cheeks.
For being only nine months old, he had the face of a tired old man. This current illness had plagued him the day before, creeping in with a tiny cough that erupted into a cacophony of tears and vomit and phlegm.
She hadn't slept in nearly forty-eight hours, up all night swaying her little one to and fro in an attempt of providing some relief. Well, not sleeping for nearly two days wasn't true, she did get at least and hour of sleep…restless sleep. Could you even call what she had sleep? She thought her eyes were still open; maybe she passed out for a minute or two.
"Momma!" Louder now, more pleading, he pulled her back to reality as one hand found her face, planting itself on her cheek.
She knew he was beyond the point of sitting down, and she knew he wasn't going to let her wash his hair.
The passive-aggressive approach was perfect.
Slinking out of her shorts and pulling off her shirt, the mother slipped into the tub, sighing when the warmth of the water unlocked those tight muscles in her back.
Her hands lifted her tot up and onto her chest, laying him flat and getting everything from his shoulder blades down in the water. His cries subsided to hiccups and he melted into her, eyes drooping as a tiny little hand found one of his mother's slender fingers, holding it tight in his grasp.
"There…better now?" Oh yes she was. She couldn't even remember the last time she had a nice bath-about a week before she gave birth to her son-and got something out of it.
But she didn't need him to answer to know he was better. He was still and calm, she could feel him breathing evenly as he could, feel the flutter of his little heart on top of hers.
Quietly, she reached for the bar of soap. She handled it enough to get some bubbles going, then running her hands down his back with the soap coating the appendages. Her baby boy melted deeper into her chest, seeming to fuse with her as her fingers traced the contour of his spine, up and down, all the way.
"There, there…it's gonna be okay, Itachi…shhh, just sleep…" Mikoto hushed as she wrapped her hands around her son's entire little body, holding him closer to her as she dug her nose in his hair, drinking his scent.
The little baby moaned lightly and turned his head, eyes meeting his mother's. She smiled, something she hadn't truthfully done around anyone else but him in a long time.
She lowered her lips until they met the crown of his head, closing her eyes and smiling as his hair tickled her nose
D'awwww! Wasn't that just the cutest thing? I loved writing the fluffy little moments between momma and baby, it was great! Hope you all liked, and NO!
THAT BABY, BABY, BABY PART WAS NOT FROM THAT CURSED BEIBER THING!
I hate him much more than Sauce-gay! And that's a lot of hate...
Reviews are super loved!