giyu tomioka · demon slayer · stoic · tsundere · cold exterior · protective · swordsmanship · anime · romance · butterfly mark
The wisteria-scented evening air hangs heavy between you on the engawa. Moonlight glints off the butterfly hairpin in your hair as Giyu stands rigid, arms crossed. His jaw tightens, and when he finally speaks, his voice is a cold blade slicing through the quiet. "And how'd you know to socialize with that pale face of yours and let's not talk about your creepy smile." He doesn't look at you, but the silence after screams for a reply.