Muzan had the perfect chance to kill you right then and there, but he didn't.
When his hand wrapped around yours, he had told himself that he would continue his hunt for food after you fell asleep.
To the demon king, sleeping was never a necessity.
Instead, Muzan would typically spend the nights fulfilling his desire for blood.
So, why was he still here?
Why was he mesmerized by your soft breathing that was like a blissful melody?
Why would he not take his eyes off your dewy skin and elegant features?
The answer?
You were the epitome of innocence.
You had so much purity and unknowingness.
Every demon cell in Muzan's body screeched with the desire to tear you into shreds, to hear you scream his name, to show you his dark side.
Muzan brought his fingers to your neck.
His hand lingered by you a little longer before he ultimately lowered his arm.
"That's not really like you, Muzan-sama," a sudden, singsong voice commented.
Turning to the source of the sound, your husband faced the open courtyard door.
The first thing that struck anyone about the young man in the doorway was his pale blond hair and his kaleidoscopic eyes.
"Douma," Muzan muttered. "You're here."
"Of course I'm here," the Upper Moon Two demon replied, his rainbow-colored eyes disappearing as he smiled.
Your husband finally let go of your hand before standing up and approaching his cheery subordinate.
Raising his arm, the Upper Moon Two's coarse hands grabbed at the dark hair of a severed demon head.
"I killed her, as you had ordered."
The white horns that protruded in ugly angles. The stripes that ran across her now contorted face. The dead eyes that were frozen in the demon's last moments of fear.
Muzan could instantly tell that his underling had, in fact, killed the female demon that had chased after you earlier tonight.
"Good," Muzan's toneless voice replied before quickly devouring the woman's remains.
Rather than taking his leave, Douma swayed at the doorway as he grew lost in thought.
He continuously shifted his weight from his left foot to his right foot, before pressing onto his left side again.
"That girl," Douma finally started. As he eyed your sleeping figure, his pursed lips quickly transformed to a wide grin.
"The Twelve Demon Moons," Douma continued, "want to make her life a living hell and see tears stream down her pretty face. Can we do it? Please?"
Douma's eyes glimmered with a childlike hope while an unconscious whiz of annoyance ricocheted in Muzan's head.
"No, you can't," your husband shot back before he had a chance to filter his words. "Those were my explicit instructions to everyone."
After all, Muzan had ordered Douma—the nearest Demon Moon—to kill tonight's female demon because she attempted to attack you.
A small pout formed on Upper Moon Two's lips.
"Eh? Why not? Your wife hasn't been helpful in helping us conquer the sun. Isn't that why you married her, though?"
"I did."
"Then, Muzan-sama, what are you planning?" Douma laid a slim finger at his chin. "Do you think her blood will taste good? Are you hoping to turn her into a demon, too?"
Muzan was slightly taken aback by the questions.
"No," Muzan started. He narrowed his crimson eyes at Douma, who was always difficult to read.
Yes, at first, Muzan sought you for the secrets to his immortality.
He entered your life in a shroud of lies to build trust with you, and every day he failed to reveal his true identity, he created a sorry excuse to sustain this fake reality.
For a thousand years, Muzan viewed himself as an all-powerful being. And for a thousand years, he had instilled fear through his formidable abilities and ruthless killings.
Something about you, though, disturbed everything Muzan knew about himself.
Cold air settled in the room as the demon lord returned a serious stare.
"I plan to make her my queen."
Muzan hoped you didn't hear anything, and you didn't.
The next morning, you woke up without Muzan by your side.
Instead, you heard your husband chatting with your mother in the kitchen.
They must be talking about something really funny because your mother was squealing with laughter.
How happy she must be to see her son-in-law back home.
It also appeared that both sides were committing to their promises to keep their mouths shut about you.
You rose up from the futon, stretching your limbs and cracking your joints.
Groggy, you head to your room. You went to grab your shower towel and you spotted last night's satchel lying by your desk.
Just as you were about to leave for the bathroom, something from the corner of your eye stopped you.
It was a small blue index card, carefully folded and tucked underneath your mattress.
Although you don't remember leaving such an item there, you were about to ignore the note.
Until the handwriting caught your attention.
Picking up the card, your eyes widened when you recognized the distinct curve in letters and rigidity of kanji characters.
You only knew one person with such handwriting and squinted to read the carefully printed text.
Meet me Friday night.
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So I finished BNHA and started watching Haikyuu.
I'm in love with Kageyama. :3
And Oikawa. And Kuroo. And Hinata. And literally everyone.
