𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 ✓ | Muzan X Reader X Giyuu

11. Slip-Ups

Later that night, you watched Giyuu stand in the courtyard, body poised to leap into the midnight air.

"I'll be back soon," the Water Pillar promised. But who really knew if Giyuu would ever come back again?

"I need to meet up with Mitsuri Kanroji."

"Mitsuri?" you repeated when you heard the unfamiliar name. Mitsuri was a no doubt girl's name, and you felt your heart sink a little at the realization.

So, Giyuu is hanging out with a girl?

Of course, he could (and he should!). But then why did you feel so upset? Why did you feel that you only wanted Giyuu for yourself?

Although you knew better to say more, the devil on your shoulder got the best of you.

"Are you friends with her?" you finally blurted out with a bit of caution.

"No."

"Oh." Not that you expected him to say yes.

But you felt a hint of relief.

"She's just another Pillar," Giyuu continued.

You arched an eyebrow. "For another mission?"

"No, I just need something from her."

When you didn't respond further, Giyuu silently nodded goodbye and disappeared once more into the darkened sky.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

The next morning, you woke up with dark circles under your eyes and a headache that raged whenever you tried to think. You had trouble falling asleep, and exiting your room, you would have given up your soul for just another hour of shut-eye, wanting nothing more than to sink back into the covers to avoid facing your problems.

"Breakfast with me?"

Closing the room door behind you, you blinked like you just saw a flying cow. "Huh?"

Although there was no emotion in his silvery voice, you couldn't believe that Muzan had spoken to you. Passing by your husband in the halls, he would typically ignore you as if you were a minuscule ant in the corridors.

Plus, when was the last time you ever ate with the man? After your wedding day, you've never seen Muzan at the dining table.

Does he even eat?

What does he eat?

Rubbing your tired eyes, you wondered if last night's outing had brought upon his good mood.

"I haven't made breakfast yet," you quietly admitted. Since you never shared meals with Muzan, you rarely thought about ever preparing food for him.

"We'll cook together," he suggested, tucking a loose lock of his jet black curls behind his right ear.

"Y-yeah, I guess we could do that," you replied. You brought your arms across your chest, completing your morning stretch.

When Muzan nodded and headed to the bathroom to freshen up, you thought about going to the kitchen before him. You wanted to start prepping before Muzan would arrive.

After all, that's what a good wife would do, right?

Not that you really know what good "wifery" is, but at least you were trying.

You rushed to the fridge, opening to a large display of vegetables, meats, and herbs.

Since you weren't at all familiar with your husband's taste, you randomly plucked a set of ingredients as if you were choosing numbers for the lottery, hoping that something would go right.