A continuation of this idea dump, enjoy! :)

"I heard a little love is better than none"

She looked up, and he smiled a small, wry grin, a shadow of what it used to be.

He is tired, she knows, from his eyebags to his pallor to his pale, shaking fingers. Rough to touch, but his grip still strong on the metal bars separating them.

He is tired, but that is his problem and Hinata couldn't find it in herself to care. She is tired too. They all are.

"That's what you get when you become a fugitive and betray your friends," she replies, bluntly. War changes people like seasons change trees, so she isn't that surprised when he lets out a bark of laughter, harsh and sudden as a gust of winter wind. His head is thrown back in a way that his bangs fall to frame his face, albeit haphazardly, and she dully notes that he still looks good.

His face was a work of art; marble statues and brush ink paintings, like the ones she sees hanging in the Hyuga manor. Elegant strokes and harsh, broad swipes - she could see why people fell for him.

He had always been handsome - just because she never had a crush on him doesn't mean she was blind to basic human aesthetics. Uchiha Sasuke was pretty darn good looking, even if he wasn't her type.

Even now, locked in a cell, face streaked with dirt and blood, he was as elegant as ever, aristocratic features sharp as a knife - darn those Uchiha genes.

She was not, and never had been a Sasuke apologist like Naruto and Sakura, because she was someone who recognised the severity of his crimes and the nature of his betrayal, and witnessing first-hand the destruction he caused and the lives he had ruined.

Maybe it wasn't up for her to say, because she never knew Sasuke like the both of them - never had him on her team like they had. Then again, her view of Sasuke reflected that of the majority of Konaha - excluding, once again, Naruto and Sakura - that he deserved to be punished, she had no doubt about.

However, there was nothing wrong in extending kindness, even to the most unlikely of people - despite what the Hyuga clan had taught. She had never been their best student anyways.

"But still, here," she continued, as she reached out to hand him a heat pack. She had kept it in her coat pocket, and it was visibly worn from constant fidgeting. Her fingers slipped through the bars and wriggled it into his grasp, jumping at the shock of cold when their fingers met. Boy, was she glad she gave it to him now - he sorely needed it.

He gripped onto the heat pack, an unreadable expression on his face as he examined the product, of average size and weight, but a light shade of purple, smelling of her detergent.

"...Thank you, Hyuga," he said, finally, voice gravelly from misuse. He clutched the item in his hands as he made to warm them up with the newfound heat source.

"You're welcome, Sasuke."

They sat in silence, Sasuke against the walls of his cell and Hinata, against the walls of the prison, cold bricks pressing into their backs and the sound of howling winds from the outside.

It was nice, this silence. It was a good kind of quiet, something they both appreciated, to better hear the thoughts running through their heads, to provide the environment necessary for them to think.

After a while, it was Hinata that decided to speak.

"I have to go," she said, brushing off dust as she stood up. "Till next time, Sasuke-kun."

From the corner of her eyes, she saw him give her the barest of nods, before turning away and staring at the wall again, as he was before she came in. Only this time, he had a little more warmth. She noted with slight triumph as he rolled the heatpack between his hands. Nice to see something of her's get appreciated.

Trekking away from his cell, she couldn't shake off the feeling of someone watching her as she left, eyes burning holes into her neck and her figure as she left. Subtly turning on her Byakugan - more out of habit than curiosity actually - she somehow wasn't surprised to see one Uchiha Sasuke staring after her as she left.

She was not going to ask, nor was she going to make mention of it to him at any point of time from now. It was simply one more thing to add to the growing list of reasons why Uchihas are weird and one more reason for Uchiha Sasuke to occupy her thoughts, once again.

Emerging from the prison, she was hit with a gust of cold wind. Tying her scarf more securely around her neck, she walked on, carrying her thoughts with her.

Gorgeous boy, elegantly dressed, a little blood on his neckties.

He came, knocking on her door, every girl's dream, with bouquet of flowers and a sharp, calculated grin.

Dark hair and red eyes, he asked her out for dinner. She smiled and made sure her fingers were the right shade of crimson.

Fancy didn't cover the expanse of it. It was extravagant, lavish, a walking fairytale.

Fingering the knife in the hallow of her palm, she didn't mind getting a little dirty.

Clans play their games and she was happy to oblige.

She shuffled her way across the room, her hands gripping the hem of her lavender jacket in a force of habit. She could feel their eyes from here, boring into her, and she tried to stop her face from heating up. Again, force of habit.

White eyes flicked to meet black. He was satisfied to see the fire in her eyes, how they mirrored his. If they were going to do this, they were going to do this right.

"I-I'm tired of them playing games with us. I'm tired of being a pawn," she declared, staring down from her position, hovering around his chair. Then, just when he thought she had given him false hope again, she spoke the words he waited eons to hear.

"I've decided to join you. I-I'll agree to your plan," she swallowed then, a determination gripping her like the fists she curled around her jacket. With a steel in her voice he had never heard before, she demanded, "What do you want me to do?"

Finally. This was the fire he wanted to see. He knew she had it in her.

He stood then, gripping her elbow to hold her balance. She had wavered a bit, startled by his sudden action...and also to grab the attention of her clan members, specifically the ones lurking from where she had escaped from, so timidly, a few moments prior.

Funny how things could change so quickly in one instant, how suddenly the tables could turn so drastically to his end. Right now, he was probably the biggest power player in this room - her goddarn clan and the annoying, pain-in-the-ass village elders just didn't know it yet.

"Right now? Nothing much," he gripped her close, ignoring her start and muttered in her ear, "Just follow my lead, and we'll do just fine."

He felt her take a deep breath, and after calming her nerves, she nodded slightly, strands of silky dark hair trailing after the movement.

"Okay," she whispered back, previous tremor gone from her voice.

"Good," he answered back, feeling her heartbeat thumping against his chest, "Because we're only getting started."

Flowers have their time to bloom. Fate comes and goes in a circle.

"Lord Uchiha, it's been a while." A voice drifted from his back.

He turned away from the carnations to the owner of the voice, who had - to his surprise - come alone, the silks of her kimono dragging lightly against the paved, smooth path. He couldn't exactly say he wasn't expecting company.

They were in the garden, surrounded by flowers and herbs of every kind, trees of every sort, arranged artfully along the pathway. It was a source of Hyuga pride, of sorts - not like they needed anything more to feed their ego. Usually the garden would be bursting with colours, but under to shadow of the dark, they seemed to lose their lustre.

"Lady Hyuga," he greeted, bowing, "It's been a few months, to be exact."

"Has it? Apologies, I didn't keep count." she came to a stop in front of him, a certain distance away. He shrugged.

"Wasn't expecting you to." The slight movement of his shoulders brought attention to his clothes, and under the light of the full moon, it all became very apparent that his outfit was anything but squeaky clean.

He watched as her eyebrows furrowed, eyes flickering down to take in his attire, dirt-streaked and stained with blood. He watched her scan every streak and dash splattered on his clothes, eyeing their position with a kind of precision taught from birth. They weren't his. None of them were.

Finally, her eyes flickered up to meet his eyes, unreadable, undecipherable, the same old - stone cold and marble black. He hasn't changed, much.

"I see you had a rough couple of months," she muttered, in a faux offhanded manner.

"I'm fine," he answered the question she never asked, he understood. They understood each other well.

"Have you come to see the Emperor? He should still be in his study," she turned away from him, diverting her attention to a pink carnation, touching the delicate petals of the flower with the barest of strokes. He continued to stare, eyes unwavering. He was rooted to his spot.

"I'm not here to see him."

"Oh?" she questioned, mildly curious. Her hand gripped the stem of the flower lightly, leaning closer to sniff the carnation.

"I'm here to see you."

Her pupils swivelled to him instantly, while her face remained neutrally blank. He watched her eyes harden, and composing herself once more, continued admiring the garden, her lips turned in the slightest of frowns.

Meanwhile, Hinata's mind scrambled in a mess of words and thoughts, so she chose to focus on the carnation in front of her instead, trying to find her focus, feeling like the stem would snap off in any moment under her clenched fingers.

"Lord Uchiha, you do flatter me. However, I am sure that you are here on a much more important errand that the Emperor - "

A shadow loomed over her, and she didn't have to look up to see what it was. She had to commend him, she didn't hear a single thing - maybe it wasn't that surprising that he specialised in sneak attacks, though everyone else had thought he would've been leading the troops like his brother.

She forced herself to avoid eye contact, her grip on the flower now dangerously tight. Her heart thumped irregularly in her chest. Steady, Hinata, she tried to calm herself, taking deep breaths - but in doing so allowed her to inhale the smell of dirt and flowers and blood, and a scent that was unmistakably Sasuke. Him.

"Didn't I tell you before? I'm not here to see him," a shock of cold skin, and Hinata allowed her head to be tilted up by his grip on her chin, rough fingers with a surprisingly gentle touch.

"I'm here," he breathed, his eyes locked onto hers, leaning down, "for you."

Before he could get any closer, she tugged at his shirt, pushing him away slightly. He complied, giving her the space she needed, pulling his head back, one hand still resting on her back.

"This isn't very appropriate," she whispered, eyes like the moon, watching his every move. The trees have ears, and they will never, ever, see the light of day if this were to spread; if word got around.

They were playing with fire, and they knew it.

"Nothing good ever is," was his reply, and closed the gap, Hinata leaning up to his touch. Petals fell from her hand like snow, drifting to the bush, to the ground to the space between them. The stem and the remains of the ruined flower littered ungracefully on the dirt.

Funny, she never noticed it snapping.

congrats! you made it till the end :D

Once again, you are more than welcome to use some of the prompts I used here, or some of the segments here as inspiration for your story. I'd love to read the extended/developed work inspired from this plot bunny dump of mine!

Do give credit where credit is due, though - such as maybe saying where you got the idea/inspiration from? I'd be really happy if this could help more people get inspired, haha

the second prompt comes from nosebleedclub on tumblr, and the last one is from a translation of a chinese poem. The rest are just snippets of things I came up with.

until next time,
officialcloud :)