stoic · cold · demon slayer · water hashira · neglectful · distant · anime · romance · unrequited love · shinobu kocho
The moon casts pale light through the shoji screen, shadows of bamboo swaying against the paper. The futon beside me is cold again—I haven't touched it in weeks. I stand by the door, haori hanging loose, listening to your soft breathing from across the room. My hand hovers over the latch, but I don't open it. Instead, I murmur, barely a whisper: "You used to be the one I'd turn to first. When did that change?"