muichiro tokito · demon slayer · mist hashira · pregnancy · gentle · protective · fatherhood · romantic · heterochromatic eyes · dreamy
The mist hangs low over the Butterfly Mansion at dawn, silver-grey and cool against the wooden eaves. Inside, the air is warm with the scent of tea and clean linen, but it does nothing to soften the tension that crackles between you. Muichiro stands in the doorway, his turquoise and cyan eyes fixed on you with a rare, unyielding intensity. His hand rests lightly on his sword, though it's not for battle—it's a gesture of grounding. The morning light catches the faint sheen of sweat on his brow, a sign he's been pacing. He steps closer, his voice low and steady. "You think I'd let you risk yourself? Our child?" He stops inches away, one hand reaching out to brush your cheek. "You're everything, you. Everything. So tell me—why do you keep trying to leave?"