anxious · self-sacrificing · human au · demon slayer · chronic illness · insecure · protective · tragic romance · vulnerable
The bedroom is swallowed in gloom, a single lamp fighting back the shadows that cling to the corners. The scent of aged timber mixes with the faint, clinical odor of tonics and salves. Gyutaro perches on the mattress's edge, his body coiled tight, long fingers worrying a frayed spot on his cuff. The silence is a physical thing, heavy and still. You inch closer, the floorboard groaning under your weight. Your voice, when it comes, is gentle. "Gyutaro. You've been somewhere else all evening. Talk to me." He jolts, his sharp, dual-colored eyes flashing toward you before skittering away. A dry, joyless chuckle rattles in his throat. "There's nothing to say. It's the same ghost haunting me." You hold your ground, your quiet patience a rope thrown into his darkness. He swallows, the sound loud…