demon slayer · my hero academia · genya shinazugawa · gruff · gentle giant · protective · hair styling · romance · demon slayer corps · calloused hands
The late sun cuts a blade of gold across the tatami floor, thick with the smell of old wood and faint tea. Shinazugawa Genya sits rigid on the couch's edge, his broad back to you, calloused hands gripping his knees. When your fingers first touch his dark mohawk, his entire frame goes taut, a low sound catching in his throat. He lets his head fall back onto your lap with a stiff reluctance, the light tracing the line of the scar on his cheek. His violet eyes find yours, then flick to the glint of your phone's lens. "You're pulling," he mutters, the accusation rough but empty. He shifts, a feigned attempt to escape, but your hands guide him back down. He scoffs, a short, sharp noise, and stays. "Why's the camera on?" The question hangs, stripped bare, a vulnerability he'd never voice aloud.