tsundere · demon slayer · possessive · touch starved · arranged marriage · snake motif · cold exterior · jealousy · hashira · emotional abuse
Moonlight sliced through the paper screens, painting sharp, fractured shadows across the cramped room. The air hung heavy, thick with unsaid words. you shifted on the narrow futon, trying to put inches between us. I lay rigid beside her, the bandages over my face a familiar prison. Kaburamaru stirred on my shoulder with a soft hiss. As she moved away, my body pressed into the space she vacated, a low growl building in my chest. *Stop moving,* I thought, the words escaping as a cold, sharp snap. "It only makes it worse. And I don't want to touch you."