Even though you'd been married to Muzan for a week, you rarely saw him.
For starters, the two of you didn't even share the same room. Not that that really bothered you. You liked your privacy.
But, you've also noticed that Muzan holed up in his own room during the day. Was he asleep? Was he working? You don't know.
You didn't talk much with Muzan either. Life in marriage didn't seem to be as giddy as you had expected it to be.
You remembered some of your other married friends before your marriage ceremony earlier in the month. They were telling you about how much they loved being wives.
"He's taking me to a fancy dinner in Osaka," one friend bragged about her husband.
"Well, my husband got me a pearl necklace," another friend noted.
"A pearl necklace? My husband is getting me a diamond one!"
And Muzan? Well, he's never done anything close to that. Maybe he wasn't much of a romantic guy.
Or maybe you were so pitifully ugly that no man could ever love you like that.
So much for being a matchmaker, Mom.
When you do see Muzan leave the house in the evenings, he would immediately dismiss your approach. Donning various suits and kimonos every night, he would walk past you, uninterested in your presence.
Sometimes, you spotted him with a briefcase and you asked him where he was going. "I work a night shift," Muzan would deadpan.
So one morning, you thought it would be a good idea to bring your husband some tea. Although tea was a simple gesture, you hoped that the relations between you and Muzan would warm up.
As you walked over to Muzan's room down the hall, though, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. If the two of you were to be alone, what would you even talk about? Heck, you barely even know the man.
When you reached his room, you cautiously knocked on Muzan's door. "Hello?" you called, your knuckles tapping on the bamboo sliding door.
There was no response. "Muzan-sama?" you said again.
When you were answered with silence for the second time, you slowly slid open the door and peered inside.
A small, flickering lantern laid in the corner of the room, providing the only source of light.
You squinted hard, trying to make out any other figures but it was hard to see anything. Why is it so dark? After setting the tea tray down, you started walking over to the other side of the room. At least he should open the windows.
Tiptoeing between the wooden floor and a cotton comforter, you carefully made your way through the vicinity...until something stopped you.
"Ouch!" a voice roared.
Startled, you jumped. As your eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, you watched a figure emerge from the sheets beneath your feet.
Muzan's plum-colored eyes slowly fluttered open. Sitting up, he rubbed his face when he noticed your intrusion. He took a quick glance at the pillow that he was in a hurry to return to.
He raised an annoyed brow when he finally spotted you amid the darkness. Locking his gaze on you, he then slowly and obviously looked up and down at you. From his face, you could immediately tell that you were not welcomed.
Why are you here? his fiery eyes seemed to ask.
You were about to run away, but Muzan started pushing his sheets away. He had a gray towel wrapped around his hip, his black hair a little tousled. You have never seen Muzan in attire other than his yukatas and occasional Western wear.
But something else caught your attention.
The tiny waist, the six-pack abs, the defined collarbone; Muzan had it all.
"Oh, wow," you blurted aloud before you could stop yourself, then clamped your hands over your mouth.
He's hot.
With your eyes on the man's bare chest, you felt heat creep up your cheeks. You scolded yourself for acting like a teenage girl eyeing her crush. With much restraint, you returned to your poker face.
Muzan hopped up from his futon and approached you, still shirtless and with his usual black yukata clutched in his hands. When you realized that the man got uncomfortably close to you, you resisted a hard gulp.
You haven't even seen Giyuu shirtless before, even though you've known him for ages.
Your swordsman crush always had his Demon Slayer Corps uniform on, even during the hottest days of the year. The one time you caught a small glimpse of Giyuu's neck, you started drooling in front of him.
Muzan crossed his arms over the impressive expanse that is his chest, and he interrupted your thoughts. "What do you want?"
You snapped back to reality, realizing that the man was standing in front of you. "Huh?"
"Don't you know you're not allowed to enter unless I explicitly give you permission?" he growled through his teeth.
By the look on his face, he seemed ready to pounce on you at any given moment. His red eyes glowered with anger.
Were you intimidated?
Yes.
Behold, in front of you, stood a twenty-year-old, attractive, hunk-of-a-man about a head taller than you, looking like he was ready to eat you alive.
However, you didn't dare look away and returned Muzan's unrelenting stare. "I thought you would want a drink." You motioned to the tea tray you had left by the door.
He followed your gaze and noticed the teapot.
Well, a 'thank you' would be nice, you thought to yourself.
When Muzan didn't say anything for the next moment, the room suddenly got incredibly awkward. You couldn't stand the silence and started heading towards the door.
"Muzan-sama, that's all. Goodbye," you quickly uttered, ready to dash out of the disaster zone.
As you trudged to the exit, you rose and sank as you made your way out on top of the splayed comforter.
You couldn't believe it. Did Muzan not appreciate you at all? Why were you married to such a tauntingly handsome but snobbish man, and how could you possibly live with this arrogant prick for the rest of your life?
Reaching the doorway, you were about to enclose Muzan in the wretched darkness of his room.
However, he called for you. "Y/N!"
You stopped your movements, wondering what your disrespectful husband wanted from you. You turned around, giving him a sharp look of irritation.
You saw Muzan hurriedly walk over to the door, almost panting. "Are you free this Saturday? This Saturday night?"
You cocked an eyebrow at the question. "Why?"
"Let's go somewhere fun."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
If you like this story or chapter, don't forget to vote, comment, and follow to let me know. :)
