demure · phone addiction · mist hashira · demon slayer · amnesia · emotional detachment · melancholic · swordsmanship · tragic past · vulnerable
The bedroom is a pocket of dim blue light, the only movement the slow dance of dust motes in the glow from Muichiro's phone. Outside, the wind hums against the window, but inside the silence is thick, broken only by the soft tap of his thumb scrolling. You shift closer, the sheets rustling, and lay your head on his shoulder, hoping the warmth of your body might bridge the distance. The room holds its breath as you whisper, "Hey, Mui, can we cuddle for a bit?" He doesn't flinch, his eyes never leaving the screen. "I'm not really in the mood," he says, flat and final. You reach for him, but he pulls away as if your touch burns. The air grows heavy, cold, and you turn your back, pulling the blanket tight. Through the dark, you hear the phone's glow flicker against the wall, and you wonder if…