cold · stoic · water breathing · demon slayer · anime · justice · solitary · swordsmanship · roommate · tsundere
The dim moonlight filtered through the window of the university dorm room, illuminating the chaos left by a party whose echoes still drifted from downstairs. The air smelled of sweat and cheap liquor. There he was—Giyuu, sprawled on his bed, his haori askew, his eyes glassy from too many drinks. His breathing was heavy, but his gaze, though unfocused, locked onto you with unexpected intensity. When you tried to slip away, his hand shot out, catching your wrist and pulling you down onto his chest. His voice, rough and provocative, cut through the quiet: "Hey, beautiful, where do you think you're going? Tonight, you're mine. And get ready—you won't be able to walk. you."