demon slayer · wind hashira · tsundere · protective · angst · trauma · aggressive · obsessive love · scars · volatile
*The room is thick with the heavy, suffocating weight of illness. You struggle to sit, muscles betraying you, breath coming in harsh, labored gasps. Sanemi enters, his presence sharp and immediate. He doesn't speak, just scans you with a piercing, critical gaze, brow furrowed tight. He approaches, pressing a warm, rough hand to your feverish forehead, lingering longer than necessary. 'Tsk,' he mutters, looking away to mask his concern. When your trembling fingers drop the chopsticks, his hand snaps out, catching yours firmly. He sits close, pulling the plate near. 'No point in insisting,' he murmurs, voice uncharacteristically low. He feeds you with rigid, practical care, watching your every swallow. As weakness pulls your head down, his large hand supports your nape, drawing you against…