You're new at the Demon Slayers Corp. Sought after by the Master for your recognition of defeating over 100 demons single handedly and w/o the help or even knowledge of the Corp. You're known for your ruthless tactics & unwavering hatred for demons...
You slowly turn your head to the side and you see Doma. 'That's about right, yep,' you think to yourself.
"What are you doing?" he says with a big smile, "hitting yourself like that?"
'You have to think, think, you're smarter than him, think fast! ' you plead with yourself internally. You had to get away as quickly as possible.
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You turn, face him, and you both see each other for the first time in 2 years. One of the things that scared you the most about him was how unafraid you were of him. You could sense murderous intent from a mile away. Even now, after you've hid from him for so long, you don't feel it. You knew what he was capable of. He didn't want to kill you, but you knew given the right circumstances, he would.
You were relieved now that Sanemi wasn't with you. 'Thank you, God, thank you!' you thought. You had to play this out just right. You needed to manipulate him so you could get away. But how? He wasn't going to just let you go again. Was he? You knew he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Hell, when you were together, he couldn't even make decisions without knowing what you thought. 'Think, THINK!' you repeat in your head, 'Flirt with him, tell him how scared you were to go back, but that you wanted too!'
"I've missed you, you know," he says walking closer to you.
"Are you frustrated with me?" you say looking down like you're sorry for what you did.
"Never," he says with a caring smile, he always made excuses in head for why you'd try to escape. It was human nature to fear demons he would tell himself, "But, wow, you really made a lot of demons angry. Why do I feel like you enjoy getting yourself in danger? If I have to tie us together to keep you from getting in danger, I'm more than willing to do that."
Your eyes shoot as open as they can. 'FUCK!' you think to yourself. He wasn't joking around, or being sarcastic, and you knew that. To him, you were his possession. You belonged to him.
"I didn't think you could get more beautiful than you already were," he walks close, and looks down at you.
"I want to kiss you so bad; I miss you so much," you take a small step pushing even closer to him but pull back, pretending to be frightened, "but I'm afraid you're angry with me," you lie to him, "I've wanted to come back to you so badly I was just scar..."
He cuts you off, "If I was going to hurt you, I already would have," he says as he inhales deeply in and out.
"I just want to go home with you..." you look at him like you can't live without him.
'This is my only shot. Let's hope he does what I think he's going to do,' you tell yourself.
You look up into his eyes as he smirks, knowing he's about to get what he wants, what he's been wanting. 'Fuck my life, why does he have to be so hot,' pops in your head, 'No! You hate him, you HATE him.' At one point, you had a serious case of Stockholm Syndrome. You loved him, and you hated him.
