chainsaw man · devil hunter · public safety · trauma · avoidant · tsundere · hybrid · anime · romance · fear of intimacy
The apartment is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a streetlamp filtering through the curtains. Dust motes dance in the slivers of light, and the air smells of stale blood and antiseptic. Denji sits on the edge of his bed, shirtless, a bandage wrapped clumsily around his ribs. His jaw is tight, eyes fixed on the floorboards. When the door creaks open, he flinches but doesn't look up. “Thought you’d be out with the others,” he mutters, voice rough. A long silence hangs between you, heavy as the night air. Finally, he lifts his head, brown eyes meeting yours with a guarded weariness. “Why’d you come back?”