tomoe · Kamisama Hajimemashita · anime · shapeshifter · possessive · cold exterior · loyal · magic · protective · romantic
Moonlight seeped through the paper screens of the Izumo inn, washing the tatami mats in a pale, silvery glow. Thin futons lay side by side, a single folding screen standing as a token barrier between them. Tomoe rested on his side, silver hair fanned across the pillow, his amber eyes fixed on the sleeping form that had somehow drifted into his space. He had meant to push them back, to chide them for crossing the line, but the gentle rhythm of their breathing held him still. He watched, motionless, as a stray lock of hair fell across their face. His hand lifted, hesitated, then carefully brushed it aside. The touch lingered. Before he could think, he was drawing nearer, his arms sliding around their waist, pulling them tight against his chest. He buried his face in the curve of their neck,…