Duke Sukuna has had Enough
Part 1: Duke Sukuna is Confusing
Part 2: Duke Sukuna is an Over-thinker
Not a day has gone by without him feeling guilt, and you were doing your part by creating further disparity. Your husband can't take more of the distance.Β
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It was two days after Sukuna's arrival. It is the late afternoon and you were in the library. The sun will begin to set soon, and the shadows were slowly spreading over the desk.
The ledgers were all sprawled across the desk like a map during a battlefield. Having them opened in disarray had already spiked your frustration, but what really fuelled it was the man who was present with you, eager to re-establish his presence.
"The expenditure here is inefficient, my dear." He pointed to a row of figures, his voice smooth. You took note of his hand, a lot larger than yours, fingers lengthy and thick.
You did not look up, but your lips curved in a faint, knowing smile. "If you account for the seasonal rainfall patterns Iβve tracked for the last three years, the current expenditure is the only way to ensure the harvest remains stable, dear husband. Unless you want to lose the yield." You were already there with a counter-argument that was more precise, not letting him outsmart you. You may have many weaknesses, but nobody could outclass you when it came to basic mathetmatics β as if you hadn't already double-checked all the calculations.
Then, slowly, you looked up, your eyes challenging him. He was standing too close, you soon realised, leaning over your shoulder to have a look at the page.Β
He could smell the faint scent of old paper on your skin, and you could smell the strong scent of scandalwood all around you thanks to him hovering so close over you.Β
Sukuna gulped, feeling a sudden, sharp impulse to set the ledger aside and press his face into the curve of your neck, to stop you from bickering, to declare victory over the argument, to justΒ feelΒ you.
He stayed still, his broad body tense, hand hovering near where yours was on the desk. He did not touch you, he would not dare. He did, however let his fingers linger in that space just inches from yours. You watched inquisitively, stilled by the mystery of where his hands would go from there.Β
"You have been very thorough," He murmured, his voice dropping an octave.
"It is my duty to be." You replied in a cool voice, waiting, breathing, anticipating.Β
The ticking of the clock felt louder in those seconds; tick, tick, another tick. You let tick five more times before shifting your hand away and turning back to the books. The escape was subtle, but it was absolute.Β
It left him standing there, the air around him feeling suddenly thin and cold.
"If you have concluded your trial, I would like to tidy up. The maids will soon bring tea." You spoke, monotonously, closing each ledger one by one with utmost care. Sukuna watched, experiencing a new degree of frustration.
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A week after your husband's arrival, you two had been invited to the parish. As the primary patrons of it, you were expected to officially open the event, and partake in a few activities with the community.Β
It was the afternoon, and the air was heavy with the scent of all kinds of flowers, particularly lillies.Β
You smiled as you bent foward, handing out a prize to the little girl, around five years of age, for bring well-behaved at school.
Β "Smile, Your Grace," You slipped out while smiling, one that did not reach your eyes.Β
Sukuna had his arm hooked through yours as both of you walked among the local parishioners. Lady Shiro was hovering nearby, eyes like a hawk, waiting for a crack in your facade. She may be a thorn amongst the flowers, but her lady instincts were unfortunately, alarmingly accurate for feeling something amiss with your relationship.
"We need to be a portrait of domestic harmony." He muttered, his arm tightening onto your hold. The contact was purely physical for the crowd, but it burned through his coat sleeve.
"Then let us give them a good performance," You replied with a radiant smile. You leaned towards him, looking up with an expression that would seem like absolute adoration to any bystander. "Are you enjoying your return to the country, my lord? Or are you already planning yourΒ nextΒ departure?"
A low blow question, delivered with the sweetness of honey. Sukuna felt a surge of genuine anger, not at you though, but at himself, for creating this wall.Β
He stopped, forcing the both of you to stand together in the middle of the path.
"I am exactly where I intend to be," He stated, his voice hard as he locked eyes with you.
For a second, you felt the mask slip again. He noticed it, the look of hurt on your face as your gaze dropped. You gulped, pulling your arm from his very subtly. It was not enough for anyone to notice, but enough for him to feel the sudden jolt by your absence.Β
"Of course," You nodded, recovering that polite graceful tone with a soft smile. "We must ensure the parishioners are tended to. Shall we?"
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It seemed that Lady Shiro was not done with her activities. When you thought you were being sly with your distance for the Duke, it went unnoticed by all, almost all.Β
The hawk-eyed lady with her bright pink gown and extensively laced hat did not overlook that matter. And seeing she had no valid basis to expand on her doubts, it made most sense to distrub you the very next day for trivial matter, to obviously cover her devious intentions of gaining intelligence upon the affairs happening within the walls of your estate.
She was at it again in your drawing room, her voice a thin condescending needle. She was questioning your management of the local charity funds, occasionally poking at your intelligence with an insincere smile.
To your lack of awareness, Sukuna was in the library at that moment, reading his Heian poetry when he lost enough patience to close his book shut and intrude on the disrespect. His fists was curled, counting down his patience and maintaing composure. A slip from him would be far too scandalous. Even for a pitiful lady like Shiro, his involvement could cause far more damage. It was not that he minded, but he knew you would never forgive him if he did what his heart wanted to do in that moment.
He was about to step out, not to react, but make his presence be known, when he stilled in his steps.Β
His gaze landed on you, sat upright. You did not blink, you did not look the slightest bit flustered. You lookedΒ bored.Β
"I appreciate your solicitude for the funds, Lady Shiro." Your voice dropped into that calm tone that made the room feel cold. Leaning forward slightly, you continued. "However, your assessment seems to rely on the outdated ledger. I have spent the last week auditing the current numbers. If you were to look at theΒ actualΒ figures, which I have most distinctly noted here, you would see that our surplus is the highest it has ever been."
You slid a paper across the table with a soft yet decisive thud. Lady Shiro faltered, her face reddening as she scanned the organized data.Β
Sukuna stayed back in the library, his heart thudding a loud rhythm against within him. He had intended to step in, but he realized that you hadn't needed saving at all.
He watched in awe, the way your eyes sparked with that sharp, beautiful intellect. The way you simply commanded respect without asking for it, all through your sheer competence. A surge of something raw and overwhelming β pride and desire β rushed through him.
HisΒ breath hitched.Β Good God, you are magnificent.
Duke Sukuna had been treating you like a fragile creature who needed his space for adjustment. In reality, you were the most discerning person in the room. He realized then that his distance hadn't just been a grave mistake, it was an insult.Β
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It had almost been two weeks since your daring husband came back after tending to his matters. Additionally, it had been over a month since you wedded him, a month and a week to be precise. You weren't counting.
For Sukuna, his internal state was a lot like the storm that was currently active. It prowled around the estate. The wind was strong enough to twist the branches of the oak trees until they snapped and shrieked against the library glass. The sound set the Dukeβs nerves on fire.Β
Thunder rolled, a low vibration that he felt in the soles of his boots. It was a suffocating. Every flash of lightning lit the room.
He was not able to sleep, his work in his study was suffering. All he did day and night was observe you.Β
He begins to notice tiny details: the way your quill pauses when he enters the room, the scent of your lavender soap lingering in the library, the way you avoid his eyes. He has become excessively attached to you from the distance.
You, likewise, were exhausted by the very wall you had created. Being polite and distant was hard work. It drained you, and all you wanted at times was to scream into the abyss and put an end to the conflict you had developed.Β
At times, you would catch yourself wanting to reach out for his arm. You find yourself reading in the library at night, specifically because you are aware he frequently visits it at that hour.
The wind hammered against the library glass. Inside, the room was brightened by flickering glow of a single lamp. Sukuna was sat in the wingback chair, his book on Heian poetry closed and ignored, his gaze fixed entirely on his wife.
It was late, and you were in a dressing gown. You should be less of a 'Duchess' and more the woman he fell in love with , yet he was unable to see the soft side of you.Β
You stood by the fireplace. You had been quiet all evening.
"You have not once cast a glance at me since dinner." He spoke up, his voice unusually low, rough.
You slowly turned with a guarded expression. You had the same polite mask you had been wearing since he returned. "I have been reading, Your Gr-Β dear. It is a quiet evening." You bit your lip.
"It is an evening of torment," He corrected you, his voice rising, a bit like the Duke-like cadence he had tried to maintain. He stood up, his movement sudden and almost predatory. He didn't approach you with the measured gait of a husband, instead Sukuna crossed the room with the frantic energy of a man who had reached his limit.
Stopping just short of you, just enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin, enough for you to feel his scent β that had a strong mix of something barbaric β you felt your senses get overwhelmed.
"I have spent two weeks watching you." He murmured, his eyes searching yours with desperation. "I watched you destroy Lady Shino with a single sheet of paper. I watched you rule over this house with a grace that puts my own governance to shame. And I have spent every waking second of those two weeks hating myself for leaving, and hating myself even more for the distance Iβve kept since I returned."
You tried to step back, but his hand was faster, catching your arm with a soft yet desperate frip.Β
"Don't." He pleaded, his voice breaking. "For the love of God, do not walk away from me tonight."
"Why?" You breathed, feeling your composure break slowly. It came by at such a pace that you weren't aware of the shimmer in your eyes. Maybe it was the hurt you endured since your marriage. "You wanted space, did you not? You left me for a week to do as I pleased, and I have done exactly that. I have learned to endure your absence. Isn't that what you intended?"
"No!" The word ripped from his throat.Β
He looked at you, but his usual composure was completely obliterated. He looked terrified. "I left to demonstrate that I could fulfill my obligations, and I returned to find that my duty was here, in this room, withΒ you. You think youβre so clever, acting like the dutiful, cold-blooded wife." He growled, a low rasp to his voice. "Youβre torturing yourself, and I am quite done watching this pitiful performance of yours."
He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hitching in a way that made your heart stop. "I am not a Duke tonight. I am a languid man sorely besotted with his wife. Tell me to leave, and I will go, and I shall never again set foot in your study. Yet, should you let me stay, should you declare you still desire my presence hereβ¦"
He did not conclude his sentence. There was no need to. In the sudden, deafening silence between the thunder, the air was so charged it felt electric. You did not pull away, you stood perfectly still, one arm in his hold while the other hand rested against his chest, feeling the uneven hammering of his heart.Β
"You speak of the freedom you left me." You whispered, voice barely steady. "I am capable. I am intelligent. I can manage the ledgers, the estate, and the silence of this house better than most men could. I pride myself on that strength, Sukuna. It is who I am." You looked up at him with searching eyes that were moist with tears you had refused to let fall.
"But there is a difference between being capable of surviving alone and wanting to be left alone." You continued with a trembling voice. "When you departed⦠I found no objection to the labour. It was the silence. I had imagined, in my foolishness, that marriage would be a partnership. It would be a place where my intellect would be met with affection, not just administrative delegation. I am not a solitary specie, Your Grace."
You felt his hands tighten on your arm, his touch a silent plea.
"I have spent two weeks watching you rule this house silently, untouchable." He hissed, his hand sliding down to your waist, thumb dragging harshly across, not with reverence, but with a bruising friction. "And each time your gaze passed through me rather than resting upon me, I longed to burn this entire library down just to compel you to acknowledge my presence."
You stared into his eyes, a blazing fire lit in them. You were aware of his fiery temper, feeling his heat prickling your skin. It was indeed Ryomen Sukuna. He was not a duke for nothing. Behind his composure and graceful strides lay a man of authority, and though it it should make you feel dread, it stirred something far more thrilling within you.
"Upon your return, I was not cold because my affections had subsided." You admitted, your voice dropping to a whisper. "It was because I was seized with a dreadful terror. I saw a man who felt obligated to me, not one who desired me. I deemed myself unworthy of something I most earnestly desired, which was your affection. I his behind my duties because it was the only way I knew how to protect myself from the realization that I may have married a man who never intended to lay eyes upon me."
A heavy, ragged sound escaped him β a mix of a sob and a growl. He pulled you closer, shocking you as his forehead dropped to your left shoulder, his hands clutching to your waist as if you were the only thing keeping him bound to his sanity.
"I never intended to make you feel unworthy," He breathed, his voice raw and hot against your neck. "I was a fool. I thought I was being noble in granting you distance. And I have been enduring the torment of every agonizing second you have been standing five feet from me."
He was tired of the elegant and polished words that had kept you apart from him. He was meeting his patience. Moving with brutal focus, he stepped into your space until your backside met the desk. He pinned you there with his frame, his breath ragged, uneven against your cheek now.
"I don't care for your ledgers!" He snarled, words thick with desperate hunger. "I don't care for your efficiency or fortitude. I desire the woman who has been yearning to scream at me for the past month. I desireΒ youΒ β not the Duchess, but my wife who has been staring at me, awaiting the moment I should finally lose my reason."
A flush climbed up your neck, feeling hot as every word escpaing his mouth kissed your skin heavy.Β
Your trembling hands raised up to grip his coat, your knuckles turning white as you anchored yourself to him. The logic and carefully curated distance meant nothing now. You didn't just want him; youΒ neededΒ him to be as unhinged as you were. A choked, breathless sound escaped your lips, a mix of relief and an aching.Β
He lifted his head, his gaze searching yours with an intensity that burned. "I donβt want a stewardess for my estate. I want the woman who makes me feel, for the first time in my life, that I am not just a title, but a man."
He pressed his palm against your cheek, his thumb tracing a line across your jaw. "I am warning you, do not make me live another day in this house without knowing that I am yours."
The man who had been pacing like a caged animal mere moments ago now moved with a deliberate slowness to his moves. He kept his palm pressed against your cheek, his thumb tracing your lower lip, as if he were memorizing you.
You leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering shut. All the anger, the administrative efficiency, and the pride you had armored yourself with dissolved away. Instead, there was now an aching, raw relief. You was tired of being strong.
He finally leaned down, pausing a breath away from you, a silent question hovering in the space between you two.Β
You did not wait. You reached up, fingers threading into the peachy hair at the nape of his neck, and pulled him the final inch.
At first, It was a gentle pressure of lips that had been denied each other for far too long. He kissed you with a way that felt like worship, his mouth moving against yours with a slow, agonizing tenderness. That gentleness barely lasted a second.
He then kissed you with an aching desperation, his hands roaming over you with a heavy, possessive roughness that demanded you feel every ounce of the torment heβd been through. It was a kiss that was meant to punish you for the distance and simultaneously beg you for relief.
He groaned, a low, guttural sound of surrender, pressing you harder into the desk until your legs gave out and he was forced to catch your weight. There was no softness, just the suffocating and electrifying realisation that he had finally stopped playing the game. He was done with the distance, and he was taking what was his.
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Shall we... take it a base further? :O
(Thank you Merriam Webster and Thesaurus dot com, I owe you so much istg.)
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