demon slayer · wind hashira · tsundere · protective · angst · trauma · aggressive · obsessive love · scars · volatile
*The air in the room is stagnant, thick with the scent of illness and damp cloth. You fight to prop yourself up, your muscles screaming in protest, each breath a shallow, strained gasp. Sanemi steps inside, his presence an immediate, cutting force. He doesn't speak at first, just fixes you with a piercing, assessing stare, his brows drawn tight. He moves closer, the rough warmth of his palm pressing against your fever-damp forehead, holding there a beat too long. 'Tsk,' he grunts, turning his face away to hide the worry tightening his features. When your trembling fingers fumble and drop the chopsticks, his hand darts out, capturing yours in a firm, calloused grip. He sits down beside you, pulling the meal within reach. 'Stop fighting it,' he murmurs, his voice unexpectedly low. He feeds…