The confession slipped past your lips without restraint, and your eyes went wide to seek for the Water Pillar's immediate reaction.
He said nothing.
For the first time in a while, you could not figure out what the demon slayer was thinking, although you were not sure if this confusion was due to Giyuu's mist over his emotions or the tornado that whirled in your mind.
You swallowed thickly.
Telling your best friend about this longheld affection was never a good idea, especially since you didn't even know whether he still reciprocated those feelings.
This, however, was better than never sharing the truth.
If there's anything that you should reveal to Giyuu, your deep-rooted feelings should be first on the list.
You already had a husband, anyway.
What would Giyuu do?
Gaze shifting from the trees to some clouds to an uninteresting rock, you mustered the courage to continue.
"When I was younger, I dreamed about marrying you," you admitted, a flame torching your face. "I had silly daydreams about marrying you and starting a family with you. If only my mother didn't stop you and—"
"No, your mother is right," Giyuu interjected, the first thing he said after his momentary silence.
He avoided looking at you, too.
Suddenly, the weird atmosphere between you two just got even more uncomfortable.
"I spoke with your mother during your honeymoon, and she really cared about you, Y/N. Demon slaying is a dirty job," he explained quietly.
There was a hint of hesitation in his voice as if Giyuu was saying all of this to simply convince himself.
Because he was hurt.
Because your husband should be him, not some random man that he had never met before.
This was why you couldn't tell him any more.
Of course, there were many other things that your heart ached to say: that your husband had ripped away your chastity, that your husband was the demon slayer's archenemy.
But another silence settled into the conversation again, and that was a sign that he didn't wish to further discuss the painful topic.
"Has it been long since I saw you?" he asked when he finally willed himself to turn to you again. "You're skinnier and more sickly than what I remembered."
At the comment, you slapped your hand against your cheeks.
Did you look different somehow?
You never noticed anything.
But Giyuu did, under his careful watch.
Your skin wasn't quite its original color, a shade too pale, and your oblivious state caused Giyuu to bite his lip.
"Maybe because I haven't had much of an appetite recently," you mumbled, a wild guess.
When you awkwardly rubbed at your wrists, the demon slayer didn't feel completely compelled by your answer.
"Let's visit Shinobu," he suggested, trying to force a lighter tone. "We're bringing her the blue spider lily there, so we might as well get you checked up, too."
While Giyuu waited for you by your mansion gates later that night, you prepared for your trip to the Butterfly Estate.
"Where are you going?" Muzan asked, suddenly appearing by your side.
You had been seeing him more often.
Ever since your return last week, you moved to Muzan's room on his argument that he could watch over you better.
He approached you with dark brows raised as you packed a spare kimono into a larger bag.
Your mouth grew dry at both the question and the proximity.
You tried to push away the fog in your thoughts as you felt him hover behind you, shamelessly examining your thighs and butt as he bit into his dorayaki.
"I'm heading out with a friend for the weekend," you explained, avoiding his gaze.
Your anxiety level rose as Muzan peered at you, a curious pout plastered on his face.
"Okay, have fun."
You blinked.
"That's it?" you lamely echoed.
You were amazed that your husband was so willing to let his vulnerable wife venture out during the nighttime.
How many times did he save you again, using whatever demonic powers he had to make sure you didn't evaporate into thin air?
You furrowed your brows. "You're not going to even ask who I'm going out with?"
Muzan absentmindedly shook his head, snaking his tongue between the dorayaki's pancake folds and lapping up the red bean paste squished between.
"No," he deadpanned once he swallowed the morsel.
You hated to admit that you were just a little bit disappointed by Muzan's lack of reaction.
"But, I'm going out with a boy," you clarified.
You made sure to emphasize the last word, but your husband didn't flinch the slightest.
"I'm sure that he already knows you're mine. You'll be safe," he mumbled between bites.
And he was right.
Even when your life was in danger, Muzan had always been able to rescue you. Simple self-confidence in his own abilities allowed him to be a little more careless.
Just when you were about to stomp away with irritation, your husband waved his hand and gestured you to near him.
You cautiously obliged, stopping a safe distance away while you narrowed your eyes.
Muzan shook his head, curling his fingers into his palm again. "Closer."
Another step.
"I said, closer."
When you took one more step towards the man, Muzan was hovering as close to you as possible, his deep exhales that drifted with the red bean fragrance brushing the top of your head.
To maintain your composure, you looked straight into his chest before averting your eyes to the side.
Then, you scoffed.
"What the heck do you—"
Your voice was cut short when Muzan grabbed your chin and pressed his lips onto your forehead.
It's a sweet feeling, the way your husband's warm lips brushed against your sensitive skin, leaving you stiff.
When he straightened up, you noticed that Muzan had a playful look in his maroon eyes, something different from the endless depths of desire that you were accustomed to.
"I always wanted to try that," he chuckled, licking and sucking the dorayaki's remnants from his fingers.
"Have fun, princess."
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