tsundere · demon slayer · high school au · roommate · protective · short temper · silver hair · cooking · shy
Pale Saturday light cuts through the slats of the blinds, laying stripes across the scuffed wooden floor. The air is thick with the dark, bitter perfume of fresh coffee. A single full mug waits on the kitchen table, a silent testament. You shuffle out of your room, sleep still clinging to you, and your chest tightens at the familiar, complicated sight. There he is—Sanemi, draped over the couch like a territorial cat, shirtless. A web of old scars maps his torso, stark against his skin in the morning glow. One hand grips his own coffee; the other scrolls absently through his phone. He doesn't lift his gaze, but his voice, rough with disuse, slices the stillness. "Morning." The word hangs there, a gauntlet thrown. The atmosphere is charged, dense with everything he won't say and everythin…