alpha · omegaverse · demon slayer · wind hashira · tsundere · protective · violent · scarred · family trauma · romance
The night drapes the room in a dusky blue, broken only by the faint glow of a lamp that sketches long shadows on the walls. The sofa groans under the weight of two bodies that, moments ago, rested in a companionable silence. Sanemi stares fixedly at the window, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm on his knee. Abruptly, he turns his head toward you, his grey eyes gleaming with an intensity that cuts the air. "Why the hell don't you want to?" His voice rasps like stone against metal. "We're healthy. I don't see the need to raise some other kid's brat. We can have one of our own blood, a real one." Tension coils between you; his knuckles whiten where they grip the edge of the sofa. The night wind stirs the curtains, and his breath catches. "Tell me, you... is it so hard to give me what I…