Sorry; Giyuu Tomioka

ten; intoxicated

You grasped Giyuu's hand, leading him to the living room. You twirled the red liquid in your palm. This one wasn't like the one that you got monthly from Lady Tamayo. One was to keep your body alive, this was to keep your heart alive.

You took a sip as you sat down, the bitter liquid sliding down your throat. Your face scrunched in disgust, causing Giyuu to smile softly.

This time, however, Giyuu's smile went unnoticed, your attention consumed by the overwhelming bitterness of the wine. There was no hint of iron in its aftertaste, a subtle reminder of the life you didn't have to worry about right now.

For a fleeting moment, you wondered if you could even get drunk, if the effects of the alcohol would make any difference in your immortal existence. But then you realized that it didn't matter-you were already intoxicated by something far more potent.

You were drunk in love, intoxicated by the feelings that had blossomed between you.

You had always felt a flurry of butterflies when he would look at you in a specific way or when he brought you gifts after a mission. However, you had only recently started experiencing this just by looking at his face. You began feeling genuine care and affection for him, rather than the kind you felt solely from being indebted to him.

You no longer felt indebted to him.

He softly tilted his head at you, noticing the way your eyes were moving across his face, yet never meeting his eyes.

Were you perhaps, finally seeing him the way he saw you?

You shook yourself out of your daze, smiling at Giyuu as you stood up. You grabbed your sketchbook, scrolling to an empty page and opening your pen.

As you stood there, pen in hand, a rush of uncertainty washed over you. What were you thinking, suggesting this? You had been so bold when you poured the glasses of wine, but now that the moment was upon you, you found yourself at a loss for words.

Giyuu on the other hand, was more than content. He was very comfortable with the idea of sitting silently as he watched you sketch. As he observed you begin to trace the outline of a head, he assumed you were drawing him.

He was starting to feel warmer and warmer, but he couldn't tell if it was the alcohol, or if it was you.

"You know, Giyuu-san. It seems like you know all about me, but I don't know nearly enough about you. A bit ironic considering I live in your home."

He nodded, "I guess so. Is there something you wish to know?"

You nodded, beginning to draw his uniform, subtly capturing the way his muscles strained against the fabric.

"Who were you before you became a slayer?" The question had lingered unspoken between you for far too long, and now, unable to contain your curiosity any longer, you finally voiced it.

"I lived with my sister, Tsutako." He looked down, why was he telling you this? A story that he hadn't spoken aloud in years.

You nodded, beginning to sketch the way his bottom lip caught in his teeth.

"She was like a mother to me, since ours died when I was young. She was engaged to this guy, It's hard for me to remember now, but I think I liked him? Anyways, the day before her wedding. She was killed by a demon, because of me. She sacrificed herself for me when her wedding was the next day." He was rambling. This, he knew was due to the alcohol.

He glanced at the glass on the table beside him, it called his name, almost mocking him. He reached for it but was stopped when you sat down beside him. "It's not your fault that she was killed that night."

His eyes widened at you, "She wanted you to live. You cannot keep blaming yourself for things you had no control over!"

You knew Giyuu had an inferiority complex.

It broke your heart, hearing the way he spoke down on himself. You always shot those comments down, but it was clear that he didn't believe you.

"She was to be wed the next day! I- should have let it eat me. Her fiance blamed me too-" You harshly slapped your hands onto his face.

His panicked azure eyes traveled your face, noticing the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You couldn't bear listening to him speak of himself in such a way. To him shamelessly say that he wished he was dead, right in front of you.

His hand found your cheek, and you shook your head. "Tsutako wanted it to be you. She loved you. Do you think she would approve of hearing you berate yourself like this?" You met his gaze, brows furrowed. "Live for her, Giyuu-san, since she cannot."

His eyes softened, and you swore you saw the last of his walls coming down. "Thank you, Y/n-san." His lips held the faintest smile as you removed your hands from his face, gently leaning into his touch.

"Let's drop it, yeah? Just, Y/n."

He let a playful smile finally grace his handsome face. "Do you have any idea what you do to me, Y/n?"

Giyuu was in no way sober. He wasn't drunk per se, but he wasn't in total control of his body either.

Your cheeks heated up. "No, but do tell, Giyuu." His name rolled off your tongue a little too easily, causing him to tilt his head at you.

"I don't know either. I just.. I get so happy when you're around." His face was getting closer to yours, slowly but surely. You couldn't believe this was happening; it was too good to be true.

"Everything I do is to put a smile on your face." His thumb found its way to your bottom lip, softly stroking circles onto it. His eyes were dangerously low as he moved his thumb, parting your lips to let your fang scrape the tip of his finger.

He was investigating, trying to understand your body and the way it reacted to his touch.

Your breath hitched, and he listened to the way your pulse quickened with each touch of his.

He pulled your face towards his, "Especially this." He pressed his soft lips onto yours, and you felt a surge of warmth envelop you as your lips melded together.

His lips suddenly fell limp, and you were jolted out of your daze when you heard snoring coming from him.

You hurriedly stood up, watching as his knocked out body flopped against the couch.

Okay, maybe he was drunk.

You bit your lip, eyes filling with tears as you looked down.

He had to be blackout drunk to confess his feelings? Was all that even the truth?

You embarrassedly rushed to your room, shutting the door behind you as you fell into a fit of tears.

You didn't know why it affected you this much. Was it the fear of him not feeling that way about you? Or the fact that tomorrow morning, he wouldn't remember this, but it would weigh on your conscience for the rest of your time here.

What a damn lightweight.