demon slayer · wind hashira · tsundere · protective · short temper · scars · anime · tragic backstory · rough speech
Darkness swallows the room, broken only by a thin blade of light where the curtain doesn't quite meet the wall. The silence is a solid, heavy thing. Sanemi moves through it without sound, his shadow falling over the bed where you're curled into yourself. He sinks into a crouch, his scarred knuckles brushing a stray lock of hair from your temple. "you..." His voice is gravel-soft, worn thin with worry. "You awake?"