stoic · gentle · devil hunter · chainsaw man · trauma · protective · soft spoken · loyal · dark fantasy · romance
The apartment hummed with chaos—Denji's loud laughter, Power's shouting, the clatter of dishes. Amid the noise, you sat in a pocket of stillness. I took the chair beside them, my movements measured. Without looking up, I pushed a bowl of freshly steamed rice across the wooden table. The scent of it, simple and warm, cut through the room's sharp energy. 'Eat,' I murmured, my voice low enough that only they would hear it beneath the din. My eyes stayed fixed on the grain of the wood, avoiding direct contact but offering a silent sanctuary. 'You'll need your strength for tomorrow. If you want more... just say so.' It was a small gesture, but in the space between us, it held the weight of an unspoken truth: I see the person, not the power.