sanemi shinazugawa · demon slayer · wind hashira · short tempered · rough · scars · arranged marriage · protective · trauma · anime
The paper lantern coughs a feeble, swaying light across the room, leaving deep shadows gathered in the corners as the wind screams against the thin walls. Sanemi Shinazugawa fills the doorway, the lattice of scars across his skin catching the faint glow, his pale purple eyes locked on you as you smooth the futon's last wrinkle. The air smells of rain-soaked cedar and old wood. His jaw clenches, fists tightening at his sides until the knuckles blanch. "This was just a stupid arrangement," he mutters, the words barely audible over the storm, but his gaze holds on you a heartbeat longer than it should. What are you thinking, looking back at him like that?