series. kimetsu no yaiba
pairing. tanjirou/kanao
Since the first time he saw her in the Butterfly Estate’s garden five years ago, hand outstretched as butterflies perched on her fingers, Tanjirou has always thought Tsuyuri Kanao is beautiful.
And to have this beautiful woman lie down beneath him—dark hair splayed across the white mattress, cheeks dusted with lovely colour of crimson, mouth agape and eyes closed as she pants to regain her breath, and lips a bit swollen from his kisses—he sure is the luckiest man alive in this world.
He is ready to duck and indulge himself in her once again, but the sight of her opening her eyes freezes him. Even though half-lidded, he can see the white specks around her left pupil, something that were not present five years ago, shouldn’t have been present if he had been stronger, if he had better self-control, if he had been—
I’m just glad you’re back.
Her words replayed in his mind, long time ago when he apologised to her for ruining her vision, but still it doesn’t make his guilt disappear. Not when he sees her sometimes stumbling on her feet, squinting her eyes in order to see something better, and have no choice to stay where she is when Kaburamaru is not there—
… He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve her.
But before he can get up and get away from her, she gets ahold of him first, as if knows that his conscience tells him to leave, to let her be loved by someone who is better than him, who would never hurt her like he did. It is a light touch on his cheek, yet it anchors him down, chaining him to her.
He doesn’t deserve her, but he is selfish and doesn’t want her to let go.
“Tanjirou,” he hears her call his name, softly and lovingly and heartbreaking, because he loves the way it sounds in her voice. “It’s not your fault.”
His eyes widen at her words. “Kanao—”
“It’s not your fault,” she repeats, brushing the back of her fingers against his cheek and rids the tears off his face—he doesn’t even realise he’s crying. “I don’t want you to blame yourself.”
Hurt is all that’s there on her face, like she’s the one who has done him wrong, when actually it’s him who has ruined her life. “But I—”
Before he can finish, she loops her arms around his neck and brings him down in her embrace. “Please don’t go,” she whispers against his shoulder, voice quivering. “Please don’t leave.”
Something squeezes his heart hearing her pleas that he almost chokes on his breath. How terrible he is, to wound the woman he loves and hurt her still even now, even though she has forgiven him and loved him so unconditionally. He shouldn’t be doing this. He’s tired of hurting people he cares about, and he especially doesn’t want to see Kanao cry.
With his good right hand he strokes her hair, raising up a bit and kisses her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, before placing his forehead against hers. “I won’t,” he promises. “I’m sorry for making you feel like this.” Tilting his head, he kisses her fully on the lips, before saying once they part, “Kanao?”
Is it okay for me to stay with you?
She replies with a smile, stealing his breath once again and connects their mouth, murmuring, “I love you too.”
I want you to stay with me.
