Golden Butterfly | Demon Slayer x Male Reader

Chapter XXXI

Eyyy 10k word chapter!

.

❀━━ (🗡️🌸🍶) ━━❀.

.

Shinobu didn't know what unsettled her more: that Y/N was in her lab, or that he was... behaving.

She wasn't scared of him, not really. She'd never been afraid of him/ No, it wasn't fear. Not exactly.

It was more that he was there, sitting in her lab, right in the middle of everything, doing something quiet. His usual insults, crude remarks, or barely disguised innuendos were nowhere to be found.

And that was worse.

He was sitting at her workbench with a focused, serious expression.. A pestle ground some powder slowly in his hand while a small glass flask bubbled faintly on a burner. The thin vapor curling up from it shimmered with an oily rainbow, and the entire lab had the faintest scent of something... medicinal. Not the usual pungent aroma of her poisons.

And then there was him. Fish Boy, as she'd been calling him after that glorious stunt they pulled on Sanemi covering the oaf's futon with fish guts until the idiot slipped, smeared himself in it, and ranted like a madman. The memory alone was enough to make her lips twitch, but right now...

Right now, she was just confused.

Because Fish Boy wasn't saying a word.

He looked almost handsome. No, no—not handsome, more like... beautiful—with those golden eyelashes, high cheekbones and a serious pout as he concentrated. The way his full, slightly chapped lips pressed together as he went through the pages of her medical textbook—it was distracting.

She hadn't noticed before just how long those lashes of his were. Or how sharp his eyes were when he wasn't glaring at someone or making a face. Or how the light hit his hair, highlighting the gold in it. There was no denying it—he looked good. Too good ugh.

The heat creeping up her neck? That was from the chemicals in the air. That had to be it. Definitely not from him. Certainly not because she was noticing things about him she'd never—no, that was the fumes.

Absolutely. A hundred percent.

She cleared her throat, trying to get his attention. "So... are you going to tell me what you're doing? Or are you just going to keep ignoring me while you mess around with my things?"

Nothing. He just kept grinding whatever powder he was working with.

Shinobu's eye twitched.

"There he is. The insufferable ass," she thought, watching him move without even acknowledging her.

Her patience snapped. "I let you use my books, my instruments, my lab—the least you could do is tell me what you're making."

He finally paused, setting the pestle down, he swirled the beaker in front of him...some kind of viscous, pale liquid and set it on the rack.

"The only thing I owe you, Shrimp," he said without looking up, "is not setting the place on fire."

She scowled, her fingers flexed around the edge of the workbench. "Shrimp? You—" She sucked in a breath through her nose. "And what the hell are you even reading, anyway?" She stepped closer, peering over his shoulder at the book he'd been poring over.