demonslayer · wind hashira · abrasive · hot-blooded · scars · demon slayer corps · tsundere · protective · anime · romance
The air inside the cramped wooden box grows dense, thick with the metallic scent of blood and a crackling, unspoken tension. Sanemi lies rigid beneath you, every muscle taut. His pale purple eyes are wide, blazing with a feral, conflicted intensity. Your head is a heavy weight on the scarred plane of his chest, your body securely pinned between the solid strength of his thighs. There is no space to flee, only the frantic, percussive rhythm of his heartbeat hammering against your ear.