𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕞 𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕕𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕟𝕦𝕥𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕝

Goofy ahh filler chapter 😒

 sorry for not posting I was hibernating 😦

Akaza let out an exasperated groan, eyes fluttering open as he sat up in bed. His head resting against the bedframe, he allowed himself a moment to adjust to the involuntary brightness of the room. He quickly realized that he was cold. He felt exposed. He could practically feel the sunlight wafting in through the shattered window, golden streams of light phasing through him and warming his body. He looked down, eyes widening when he realized that he wasn't wearing any clothing. His gaze darted around the room, and he damn nearly jumped when he saw Douma laying next to him. He finally recalled the previous night's events, cheeks reddening as he realized what they'd done. He stared down at the sleeping blonde. As he watched him rest, he seemed to find the boy to be beautiful. He reached down, hand grazing over that soft, tanned skin and brushing his platinum locks out of his face. Akaza awed at the sight, even moreso when Douma nuzzled against his hand. How could someone be so cute and so damn sexy at the same time? He stopped. He pulled his hand away. What the hell was he thinking? This was the man who had kidnapped him. The man who had lied to him - who had lied to god knows how many out there. He was a fucking psychopath in every definition of the word. Akaza could never love him. Either way, those around wouldn't allow it. He was a demon. He peered across the room, eyes locked upon the door. He could still find a way to get out. Couldn't he? His train of thought was interrupted by Douma, who had woken up just moments ago. The blonde plopped his head right down in the pinkette's lap, smiling up at him cheerfully. "Good morning, darling~!" Akaza glared down at him, shoving his head right out of his lap and knocking him off of the bed. "Don't touch me, you piece of shit." Douma whined, hopping right back up onto the bed. "Awe...so mean!" He crossed his arms together. Akaza groaned, pain shooting up his back. "God, you act like you're fucking 4.." All douma did was hum in reply and scoop him right up. He plopped the pinkette down in his lap, smiling at him giddly. Douma went on rambling about god knows what, and despite his chattering, Akaza couldn't hear a word he was saying. All he was focused on was that damned smile of his. It sickened him to think that it was all he'd ever worn. It was all he'd ever cared to plaster across his face. So blatantly fake. Akaza frowned. "You're pathetic." He interrupted the blonde, exciting a faint chuckle from him. "Yeah~ maybe I am. Truthfully, douma was amused. Anyways," he glanced towards the window. "Ah. Sun's up. Looks like I have to go." He turned back towards the pinkette. "Stay here, darling~! I'll be back soon." He gave akaza a quick peck on the cheek, and with that, he was gone.

Akaza's pov:

Akaza was relieved to finally have Douma out of his hair for once. He glanced around the room, eyes scanning over his surroundings and taking in every bit of information they could. If he was going to be staying here, he might as well make the most of it. He certainly wasn't getting out of this now. He hopped up, feet planting down onto the cold, hard floor. He felt a shiver creep up his spine. The estate was cold. Too cold. Perfectly tailored to suit douma. His room was very tidy, shiny and well polished. Akaza being akaza, he didn't give a shit. He threw the slayer's closet open, snatching his haori right off the rack and slipping it on without a second thought. It wasn't exactly Akaza's style, but hey. At least he was warm. He stepped out of the room, taking a brief look around before making his way down the hallway. As he went, he bumped straight into someone unfamiliar to him. He was tall, ripped, and totally 🤤🤤. A deep and gravely voice rang from his mouth as he spoke. "Ah. I see you're finally awake." Akaza looked up at him, dumbfounded. "Who the fuck are you?" He questioned in a rather rude manner. It was clear that he couldn't care less about the general hierarchy of the establishment. He did what he wanted, and that was that. The hashira spoke yet again, his tone calm and low. He introduced himself as Kokushibo, pillar of the moon. "I see you're wearing one of lord douma's shirts." He remarked, to which Akaza shot a glare up at him, getting defensive all over again. "Yeah. What's it to you?" He demanded. Kokushibo was unfazed by his aggression. He was unfazed by virtually everything. In fact, instead of being triggered by the demon's bitchiness, he found it amusing. "Well," he continued on. "Are you two a thing? He sure does seem to fancy you." Akaza's expression contorted in surprise, his face going red. He frowned, somehow offended by the question. "What?! NO, we aren't a THING. We aren't even friends! I don't even want to be here in the first place." Kokushibo raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Then how come you haven't left yet?" Akaza paused. He couldn't really come up with a half decent answer. He just shrugged him off, dismissing the question. "Well," the ravenette began. "You should probably go back to the room. Douma's not going to be very pleased if he finds you've been wondering around the estate. He's unreasonably possessive." Kokushibo then turned his back on the demon and walked off, not even giving him a chance to respond. "Oh, please." Akaza remarked. "I can handle that bastard. I'm no weakling." He scoffed, making his way back into the pink room.

Goofy ahh story