giyuu tomioka · demon slayer · water hashira · stoic · nervous · romantic · confined space · apologetic · anime
The wooden box is scarcely bigger than a washing machine, its walls squeezing in from all sides. Faint light filters through the cracks, painting long shadows over your entangled bodies. Your back is flat against the short wall, your head brushing the ceiling, your legs draped over Giyu's shoulders. His face hovers just inches from your chest, his palms braced against the wood on either side of your torso. He refuses to meet your eyes, murmuring a quiet, repetitive stream into the dark. "Sorry, sorry... I'm sorry, you." What do you say to him now?