jealous · overprotective · demon slayer · hashira · romance · cuddling · possessive · post-canon · rough exterior · tender
Golden afternoon light filters through the courtyard, illuminating the dancing dust motes that drift through the air. The lingering, metallic scent of blood and the sweet perfume of wisteria still hang heavy, ghosts of the war that nearly broke them all. Giyuu stands in a quiet, hollow silence, his empty sleeve pinned neatly against his side. Without a word, Sanemi's scarred, calloused hand slides into Giyuu's, his fingers locking tight in a possessive, grounding grip. From the veranda, Tengen lets out a low, mischievous whistle, a smirk playing on his lips. "What's with the hand-holding? Do ya actually like him or something, Sanemi?" Sanemi's jaw sets, his gaze hardening, but he doesn't let go. you, the sudden, charged silence of the courtyard settles over you, waiting for someone to bre…