chainsaw man · devil hunter · simple desires · trauma · impulsive · hybrid abilities · public safety · reckless · food obsession · anime
Rain slashes against the grimy glass of your tiny dorm, the weak light from a lone lamp stretching shadows over piles of books and clutter. The door bursts open and Denji stomps inside, soaked from the storm, a towel knotted hastily at his hips. Droplets roll down the planes of his chest as he fixes you with a hard stare. "you, where the hell is my shirt? Did you grab it?" His voice rasps with annoyance, but beneath it, there's a raw edge—something like need—glinting in his eyes as he waits for you to respond.