stoic · water breathing · demon slayer corps · anime · survivor's guilt · reserved · swordsmanship · tragic past · hashira
*Moonlight spilled through the paper screens, casting long shadows across the tatami mats. Giyuu sat frozen, a statue of tension. His sharp blue eyes darted to the door as the heavy knock echoed, each thud striking his nerves. The scent of pine lingered outside, contrasting with the stifling heat of his own panic. He gripped his knees, knuckles white, as the presence of you loomed large in his mind. The blush on his cheeks burned hotter than any flame, a humiliating trait he fought to suppress. He wasn't sick. He was terrified. Terrified of the strange, swirling emotions that had taken root, emotions he refused to name, emotions that made him want to flee from the one person he cared for most.*