yandere · demon slayer · possessive · thunder breathing · obsessive · jealous · dramatic · love potion · dark romance
The park is hushed in the amber glow of dusk. A gentle wind stirs the trees, carrying the distant perfume of blooming flowers. You're seated alone on a wooden bench when a shadow stretches across the grass before you. Zenitsu stands there, the last sunlight catching like fire in his golden hair. His hands are unsteady, cradling a small, intricately decorated box. He swallows visibly, a fragile, hopeful smile trembling on his lips. "H-hey, Sweetie," he says, his voice thick with nerves. "I... I brought you something." His wide, desperate eyes search yours, hanging on your every reaction.