Months passed and the two shared a level of... cohabitation? It was more than that but Doma lacked the words to describe it. Kotoha was just... pleasant. He enjoyed her company - the way she could just derail his every expectation.

They spoke of past pains and current struggles. She had plenty of opinions about how to improve the cult and he was lacking human insights. She was deceptively good at making him laugh (which was apparently a sort of uncontrollable reaction). Once, during a prayer, one of his particularly loud devotees had sung praise for twenty minutes and it had been fine until he'd met Kotoha's gaze.

It was impossible that she saw he was bored. He was the picture of divinity and interest up on his throne... and yet somehow she knew. Their eyes met and she rolled her eyes. It was playful - mocking in an amusing way. So much conveyed in a simple movement and he'd almost laughed.

He guised it under a cough, which still concerned his cultists, but in his defense, something about it had been disarmingly amusing. He couldn't even explain it!

She was deceptively observant, recognizing his emotions before he did.

"I can ask Tsu to tone down the presentation ceremonies." She'd make some offer of the like and he'd frown.

"Why?"

"Do you... like them?" she'd asked incredulously as if the alternative surprised her. Which... how? He always smiled and nodded and did all he was supposed to!

How did she know?

"I find them... repetitive." He'd finally admit it and she'd grin as if that was a victory.

"What if I told you Tsu does too?"

It was no surprise when he elevated her to... well Eternal Paradise didn't have ranks but he supposed she was a sort of right-hand. A consultant? A top entertainer? She came and went as she pleased but she took precedence over his usual repertoire of prayers and praises.

She still sang, for the community, and sometimes for him - always for Inosuke though. She played a sort of liaison between him and the cult, it seemed his followers were happy to talk to her and for some incomprehensible reason, she was happy to talk to him.

Eventually, and painfully, he gathered that she believed they had some shared kinship. That was preposterous, a human woman sharing any likeness to him was so utterly idiotic he failed to comprehend how she came to that conclusion. But, telling her such would definitely kill those gentle talks they shared later at night in the gardens or in the halls - and he... enjoyed those.

He enjoyed... a lot about her. Inosuke too, in a way. The child was just so... blank. A clean slate that loved to eat and laugh and cause all sorts of mischief in a way he supposed children were supposed to do.

One time he plucked him off the floor before the child could eat a stick of incense and wondered who decided to leave such offerings on the floor. Then he was thrust back into a plethora of memories that were borderline unpleasant of his own childhood with numerous thuribles burning low to the ground or offering plates within reach.

He found himself wondering if he'd ever burned himself. Had he ever crawled? It seemed as if one day he just... stood up from his padded cushion and had been tended to ever since.

Perhaps... Kotoha was not completely unfounded when she critiqued his upbringing. Inosuke seemed far more typical than he had been. Wild, destructive, and yet disarmingly charming.

"You're manipulative in your own way, I suppose," he accused the boy in his arms lightly. The child wasn't picky about who held him, as long as they respected when he wanted to get down.

The baby was trying to eat the ribbons of his hairdresser again, for the hundredth time. He'd actually had to replace them... stranger still he hadn't minded. The ribbons had the boy wanting to stay longer and there was something to admire in such a little human. His heart beat so fast but his laughs were so... honest. He was such an honest little thing, even when he was trying to trick an adult into giving him a snack - blind to the dangers of the world, obviously, as he leaned on a demon's chest.

It would be pathetic if it wasn't so endearing when the child leaned on his shoulder and fell asleep. Babies, he decided, were odd but pleasant things.

Or maybe it was just Inosuke. He and his mother were... they were doing something to him. They had to be.

Doma found it harder to eat. Every human he killed suddenly tasted... different. Each and every woman began to remind Doma of Kotoha and that made something foreign in his stomach twist so viciously that he felt he may be sick.

For a while, he thought he was dying. That was a foolish thought he dismissed; demons don't just... die.

Right?

He slowly began to feel as though there was some weight in his chest, pressing down on him every moment. He didn't know what it was or how to make it go away. It worsened whenever he was away from Kotoha and became nearly unbearable when he feasted.

The only time that weight left him was when Doma was around Inosuke and Kotoha... especially Kotoha. She'd said their friendship was a good one... and while the notion of Upper Two being friends with a human was moronic, he did like how the phrase rolled off his tongue.

Yes. They were... friends.

Sometimes he wondered why the woman was still alive and why he hadn't eaten her. It was always a fleeting thought that was paired with a vicious gnashing of some emotion he had yet to name.

He told himself it was her voice... yes; it was her voice and gorgeous looks that prevented her from dying. She was pleasant and useful and pleasing and he valued such things in a human. Even as he recited the reasoning, he knew it all was a lie. The thought of killing and eating her or her son made the weight in his chest ten times worse. It was like being stabbed in the chest, no, it was worse than being stabbed. He knew the feeling of being stabbed, this was an interior pain for which there was no cure or regeneration.

Demon Slayer swords hurt less than this did. He would know.

He couldn't understand and finally, unable to bear it, he questioned Kotoha about it. She seemed to have these 'emotions' figured out. She could probably fix him.

"It sounds like you're feeling guilty about something," Kotoha pondered, putting a finger on her chin. They were sitting in one of the outdoor gardens one night as Inosuke ran around chasing the last of the summer fireflies.

"Guilt?" Doma wondered looking up at the starry sky. "Hmm... perhaps."

Guilt? That was a strange notion. The great Doma, the left hand of Muzan Kibutsuji, the god who'd taken human flesh, the Gracious One, the infallible and unbeatable Doma... feeling guilty?

For what?

"That's how it feels for me at least," Kotoha continued. She smiled as she watched Inosuke fall into the grass only to jump to his feet and angrily continue his pursuit of the glowing bugs. Doma felt another chuckle in his throat at the sight.

She continued: "Whenever I feel bad about something, it feels like I'm ten times heavier - like someone's forcing all of the air out of my lungs. My heart falls into my stomach and everything just feels... terrible."

"Guilt..." Doma murmured, considering her words. What was he feeling guilty about? If he was indeed feeling guilt.

"As for the stabbing in your heart," Kotoha breathed, "That sounds as though you're afraid... or you may be... hurt."

He didn't much like the way she looked at him. It was akin to sadness but... distant. As if she was sad about something. Confounding creature his friend was - he'd almost given up trying to understand her.

Besides she was wrong about this.

Doma didn't know much about emotion but he didn't think the stabbing in his chest was something like fear... it was different, and he had no reason to fear anything. He was Upper Moon Two, the third strongest being on earth, bested only by Muzan himself and Kokushibo. He had nothing to fear.

"Mama! Mama!" Inosuke cried toddling up to his mother with his hands clamped around something. He slowly opened them showing his mother the cricket in his palm. The cricket, happy to be free, bounded out of Insouke's hands and disappeared into the grass. Inosuke puffed out his cheeks and stomped his feet angrily as he looked for the escapee.

"That's okay," Kotoha assured her son, picking him up and placing him on her lap, "The cricket wants to be free, you should let him go and be free."

"No! I no ant-oo," Inosuke objected in baby gibberish that Doma had actually begun to understand. It was an odd sort of language that made more sense the more you heard it.

"Well, what you want doesn't matter this time," Kotoha explained softly. "The cricket wants to go so who are you to make him stay?"

Inosuke huffed and scowled before spying another firefly and taking off after it. Kotoha giggled as he went and her eyes gleamed. Doma found himself... staring.

Under the moon, she was the image of perfection, and Doma did not say that lightly. He'd seen perfection, he knew what to look for - Muzan had taught him what to look for. Her dark blue hair glowed as the silver beams danced off her. Those eyes shone like strange jewels of dew on the grass. Her face was as soft as it had always been and her smile was its usual bright self but for some reason, it all seemed so much more gorgeous at that moment. Doma watched her, recognizing each of these things as he studied her.

She was perfect in a way he hadn't understood before he gained these pesky... emotions. She was happy, currently, he could see that much. The contentedness was painted on her serene expression like a gilded wash.

He'd also come to find that emotions made you partial to... imperfections. Doma had seen Muzan take many different forms, each one infallible in its physique or structure. Kotoha wasn't physically perfect. She had stray strands of hair that stuck into the air when the humidity increased. She had splotches and faded freckles on her collarbones and the edges of her cheeks that had grown darker in the summer months. She had a chipped tooth that was just barely noticeable except for when she smiled so very wide. All of those were very clear imperfections, yet... Doma knew those things made her a perfect form of Kotoha. How strange.

Suddenly, something in his chest suddenly made him speak before he had time to think.

"You're very beautiful," he observed, and if he had any sense he would've slapped a hand over his mouth in shock.

Instead, he looked into the garden and blinked as his thoughts churned: what an odd thing to say. It was true but he had no reason to say it.

She was blushing - that was a new expression. He... liked it: "Thank you Doma. You're quite handsome yourself."

He smiled politely, used to such words - and still in shock that he had just complimented a human. So... blatantly too. What was wrong with him?

"I honestly love your hair," Kotoha admitted sheepishly.

That caught Doma by surprise. It was usually his eyes that were the first to be complimented.

"My... hair?" This woman and her surprised

"Yes," Kotoha nodded eagerly. Her eyes were glued on his head which seemed to glow silver in the moonlight. "Sometimes it looks golden blonde and sometimes it's... it's like a brilliant silver. It's always so bright and unruly! It's nothing at all like that serious face you put on: It makes me happy!"

"My hair makes you happy?" Doma asked, deadpanning as he tried to decipher that.

Kotoha began to rub her head furiously, her face turning a brilliant shade of red. Doma could almost see the steam of embarrassment pouring from her ears.

"I-I mean, yes! Is that weird? That's sort of weird. I just..." she took a deep breath and composed herself. "I just love how it sticks out in all sorts of directions and how it swings and bounces when you walk. It's just pretty. I didn't mean it in a bad way-"

Doma suddenly laughed - a real laugh. He would've stopped in shock but it felt so natural, it seemed a crime to cut his laugh short. This laugh was rough, ugly, imperfect... but it was real. She kept doing this to him.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you," Doma smiled after he had finished his short bout of laughter. His hair made her happy. That was strange and so strangely wonderful and her embarrassment had been nothing short of... cute.

Kotoha was beaming: "That was a real laugh."

He found his smile real too... weaker though, as he looked away. She just... saw him. Knew him. She had called him superficial, his every act some grand masquerade but unlike anyone he'd known she'd taken it upon herself to tear apart every mask until she found something earnest.

It was so... odd. So disarming.

He found himself hoping she never found his true self. Maybe she could just keep reinventing whoever he felt he was now. He... liked who he was now. With her.

Suddenly, a cool wind blew through the courtyard, almost blowing Doma's headdress off of his head. A shiver went down Kotoha's spine and she smiled.

"I suppose winter's coming," she murmured, looking away from Doma for just a moment to stare at the horizon over the garden wall.

"I would guess so," the demon nodded. He looked at her and noticed that she looked cold in only her grey kimono. The temperature didn't affect him but it likely affected her. That made every step that happened logical, in his opinion. He easily lifted his ceremonial black cloak off of his shoulders and draped it over Kotoha. His followers knew better than to question him by now, and they'd all gone to bed as they usually did.

"O-oh, thank you," Kotoha murmured, her face turning red again - it was strangely warming for Doma to see her cheeks wearing that soft shade of pink. "But aren't you cold?"

"Cold?" Doma asked. "No, I'm quite used to the cooler temperatures." You grew used to the cold when ice flowed through your blood and soul. If anything it was comforting.

The two of them sat there for a while. Doma looked up at the stars and tried to understand once again what he was feeling. At some point, Inosuke had gotten tired and had climbed into his lap, yawning and gurgling some unintelligible words before falling asleep in the demon's crisscrossed legs. Fearless and oblivious as always, that little child. But then, a few minutes later, a strange weight suddenly settled on Doma's shoulder, and when he looked over he found Kotoha sleeping, resting on his shoulder.

He couldn't quite call her oblivious. Too trusting, always. He could kill her, probably should, but he never would. Oh, how certain he was of that in such a moment. It all became so clear with them so close. It was like the sunset, a peaceful moment that rested his confusion and emotions, blanketing him in comforting warmth.

Doma looked down to the baby who was on the brink of snoring, drool dripping out of his lips and threatening to touch Doma's pants. The demon only smiled the warmth within spreading to his chest as he listened to the two breathe.

They trusted him. More than the adoring fanatics or loyal followers. He was just a human to them and they trusted him. Why was that worth more?

"You two..." he breathed brushing Inosuke's bangs out of his face and glancing at Kotoha's peaceful expression. "What are you doing to me?"

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

The unraveling of Upper Two had only begun. Muzan called him for a mission to the north - kill a collection of demon slayers who were being a nuisance. It was obnoxious but familiar. Doma took the chance to feast. Then, as a treat, he was ambushed on the road by some would-be thieves. He enjoyed their corpses too; he had been terribly hungry. They didn't taste as sweet as his cultists but they also didn't make his stomach twist as terribly as it did.

He'd only been gone a week, enjoying the peace and the blood on his tongue, but it seemed the moment he left hell released another demon in his territory. He returned to the warm candlelight of his cult and was not two seconds through the door before he was immediately greeted by a frantic cultist.

"Gracious One!" the woman cried thankfully bowing low to Doma. She should be at dinner - that was when he'd planned to make his entrance but he supposed being ambushed by the door was par for the course.

"Amaie," Doma greeted with a fake smile, "What is it?"

"We received two new joiners in the temple," Amaie explained, her voice shaking.

"Oh, wonderful."

"Gracious One," Amaie cried, her voice trembling terribly. Doma stopped and looked back at the girl. "It's Kotoha's husband..."

Something in Doma's chest suddenly seized. The strange sensation made him bite back a gasp as a strange sort of snap shuddered through his being. What a terrible sort of feeling - he would have to dissect it later.

"Oh?" was all he managed to say without dropping his mask of happiness.

"They came a few days ago, Kotoha's husband and his mother. They're looking for her, Gracious One, she's terrified and hasn't left her room!" the girl was frantic and tears were in her eyes.

Strange... how humans could so easily feel emotions for others. Doma knew that Amaie wasn't too close to Kotoha, they couldn't have been much more than acquaintances, and yet here this girl was on the brink of tears for Kotoha.

There was something almost admirable about it. Doma wouldn't have thought so a few months ago, but now was a different time. He was a different demon. He almost wished he had that same gift. It certainly would make deciphering emotions easier - because what was ribbing through his ribs? It felt... eager.

"Is she alright?" Doma asked.

"I don't know," Amaie shook, "She won't step a foot out of her room and she keeps Inosuke with her at all times. We've all been trying to keep the two away from her and Inosuke but... but they're stubborn! I'm so sorry for the intrusion on your meditative time -"

"I will deal with this," Doma assured the girl as his eyes darted down the hall. The lights of the temple were burning bright and the halls were quiet. "Go to dinner. I will be there shortly."

"Thank you. I... I'll prepare your place," Amaie breathed bowing to Doma again as he took his leave.

The demon slipped into the temple, trying to stay unseen by his followers. He didn't have time for distractions, or so said the hunger in his heart (where hunger had never been before); he had somewhere to be. He strode over to where Kotoha was staying and with a bit of his demonic speed and the blessing of long legs he got there within the next minute.

An unfamiliar scent wafted into his nose causing that hunger to howl at the smell of bad breath mixed with a hidden tone of alcohol.

The wing Kotoha was staying in was a smaller one, familiar as he'd walked these halls with the woman more times than he could count. They were usually so quiet and peaceful, the occasional cultist bowing or laughing from their rooms. It was very different now. The halls echoed with shouting, splitting through his usual serenity. Another emotion flooded through Doma and he identified it rather quickly; anger.

He'd expected to find Kotoha - not this.

A sneer made his lip curl exposing his fangs as he approached Kotoha's room, spying a man who stirred something in his blood. He didn't have time to reflect on that feeling's nature.

A man was hammering on the wooden door. He reminded Doma of a weasel with the body of a rectangle. He was a man comprised of angels and anger. Angles were so easy for Doma's fans to catch on, and anger would make his blood curdle on Doma's tongue. He could so easily be ripped apart.

Oddly enough those murderous desires were back without the stabbing in his chest. But... there wasn't the usual pleasure at the idea of eating. Odd... but not odd enough to question currently.

He was a little busy trying not to stain his clean hallways.

"Kotoha!" the human yelled into the door as Doma silently approached, opening his fans. "Kotoha, I know you're in there."

Oh. Doma would enjoy killing this one.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Kotoha was huddled on the opposite end of the room watching the door fearfully as she clutched Inosuke to her chest. She was shaking and Inosuke recognized it.

"Mama?" he asked, tilting his head. He was wrapped in blankets and his emerald eyes were wide as they looked up at his mother.

Kotoha looked down at Inosuke and forced herself to smile even though tears of terror were threatening to burst from her eyes, "It's okay... It's okay."

"Kotoha! You bitch, let me in!" that monster demanded on the other side of the door, banging on it once again. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to calm her frantic breathing wishing it would all just go away. The knife in her hand shook and she clenched it all the same. It was all she had if he... if he...

The cultists would take him away soon. They'd demand he leave her room alone. She just had to wait... just a little longer. He couldn't break the door. He couldn't break the door. He can't break the door.

She'd fight but she wouldn't win - she'd never win. Why, why did he come back? How did he find her? Why couldn't he just leave her alone!?

A sob broke out of her throat and she hugged her baby boy even tighter, the knife's tip gleaming in the glow of her tainted haven.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

"You can't fucking hide from me, you bitch!" the man yelled trying to force the door open. It gave just the slightest bit and a grin broke on his face. Suddenly, a firm hand was placed on his shoulder and a cold voice made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

"Please do not harass my followers," Doma asked, sweetly.

The man whirled around and looked up at the demon before him. Doma knew many things about himself. He knew he was tall, which seemed to matter when it came to annoying mortals. He knew that he held an air of superiority, and all his life he'd known that he seemed otherworldly. It all culminated as he leaned closer and relished the smell of a man's fear. Strange. He'd never much cared for the smell of fear before - and never from a man. Maybe just from this man.

The kanji over his pupils seemed to jump out as his colored eyes danced in rage. His smile was curled in a way so that it was impossible to miss his huge fangs that stood in his gums. His long blue fingernails were wrapped around his golden fans that gleamed dangerously.

"My wife is in there," the man explained, "She ran away, you see, after she attacked me and stole my son from me!"

"Oh my," Doma cried, faking shock and swallowing venom. "How terrible!"

"I just want my son back!"

"Ah," Doma nodded. "I shall have to discuss that with the woman herself. But first, I suggest we go to the dining hall."

"I've waited months to find my son and that bitch, and I'm not waiting any lo-"

Doma snapped his fan shut.

"Oh dear, you seem to have misunderstood me." Interestingly enough, pretending to have emotions was much harder when you truly had them. There was such a burning inferno in Doma's chest that wanted nothing more than to wrap his hand around the man's throat and squeeze until his head popped off. It was impossible to swallow that emotion because the visual was just too appealing.

Perhaps the man (Doma refused to give him a name - he refused to give this human anything akin to a placeholder. This sack of flesh) recognized the danger in the demon's voice because he took a small step back. Maybe he saw the way Doma's fingers longed to dig into his neck. Maybe he saw the eagerness in Doma's teeth to sink into his jugular and rip. Maybe he saw the eagerness of a predator in the way the demon stood. Either way, he retreated a precious step back.

Good.

"See, I suggested that we should go to the dining hall. What I really meant was for you to leave now while I tend to my follower," Doma instructed, his tone slowly changing from its fake sweetness to his anger that was threatening to erupt. He hoped his voice danced with all the wonderful ways he was envisioning killing this bag of flesh.

His eyes were practically gleaming in anger, the kanji in them dancing unnaturally. It was so... hard to control himself. Why? He'd always excelled at it. It all got so complicated when it came to Kotoha...

"Alright," the man nodded, trying to sound unafraid even though his knees were trembling.

"Go," Doma ordered - he almost had to whisper it lest he lunge instead.

The man turned and walked away, clearly trying to escape with an air of dignity while still putting as much distance as he could between him and the demon.

Doma waited until he was certain that the weasel of a man was gone and all that was left was his disgusting scent. Then, he looked to the door and knocked softly.

"Kotoha?" he called gingerly.

Something settled in the wake of his rage... something... delicate. Aching.

The door unlocked after a moment and the door slid open exposing the fearful woman who looked around nervously. Her face was etched with terror and her usual soft emerald eyes were hard in a mix of fear and resolve. She was shaking so viciously that Doma was worried she might collapse. In her one arm, she held Inosuke who was unnaturally still and silent as he watched his mother. How strangely terrible that it was now for Inosuke to stay silent.

She had a knife in her hand, he noticed. Her knuckles were white around the kitchen item.

"Thank you," she murmured unable to look the demon in his eyes. "I'm sorry..."

"Sorry?" the words almost caught in Doma's throat as he gazed at the woman. The emotions in his chest were a turbulent mess of anger and another burning, piercing feeling.

Why were they all coming at once? Why couldn't emotions just take turns? Annoying~ he had bigger issues to deal with than his own mess of chest-feels.

"I brought them here... I - " Kotoha shook clutching Inosuke.

"No," Doma soothed his hand coming up and touching her face. She flinched making Doma retract and sending a rush of anger through the Upper Moon. The unquenchable rage made him want to commit murder and twist that bastard of a man until he begged for mercy. He'd never minded when humans flinched away from his touch because it was understandable, he had deserved it. He still deserved it. But it was different with Kotoha - everything was different with Kotoha. "There is no fault to be had."

For anything. She couldn't do anything worth blame. Not to Doma. Strange... she almost seemed more perfect than Muzan at this moment.

No. No, he couldn't think that - that was practically begging to die a traitor's death. Muzan was perfect, infallible...

But... perhaps... so was Kotoha...

"But - " Kotoha shook, tears spilling from her eyes.

Doma placed his hand on her cheek, not pulling away when she instinctively tensed. He brushed the tears off of her face and gazed at her. He would be gentle, he would never make her flinch - he would make sure she never had another reason to flinch. Not from him.

He was certain of that. More so than he'd ever been.

"Of all the people who could apologize for your misfortune, you are not one of them," he tried to smile. She was infallible to him. Truly and totally, without question.

And he'd gazed upon perfection plenty.

Kotoha began to sob and held Inosuke closer, tears running down her face in a river and falling on Inosuke's cheeks. The baby only looked at her, confused and concerned. His lip began to tremble and he whimpered.

So the boy did know fear, just not for Doma. Why was that such a gutting thought?

"I'm sorry," she whimpered looking down at Inosuke, "I'm sorry."

She fell to her knees and Doma moved with her, a strange urge possessing his mind as his body acted without thought. Suddenly, his arms wrapped around the woman and he pressed his forehead against hers.

Contact. What was a strange notion, and yet with her in his arms, Doma felt whole. So long his contact had only come from reverence touched or cold corpses and yet ever since she'd been here he'd been able to touch and hold a living, breathing person. It was in contact that Doma found himself to be nearly as infallible as Kotoha.

"You do not have to be afraid," Doma vowed, trying to do everything in his power to hold her gently. Kotoha looked up at him, her pupils growing large as her large tears slowed. Perhaps he was being too obvious; his tone was too reverent, his hold too possessive; he was on his knees for god's sake.

Something was screeching from his blood that this was ridiculous, a much louder voice in his chest was too certain to listen.

"He will never hurt you or Inosuke ever again, I swear to you I will not let that happen," he promised, gazing into Kotoha's eyes. Kotoha began crying again, but this time they were tears of gratefulness (Doma hoped so at least). She leaned into the demon's chest and sobbed into the space where his heart should be as his arms wrapped around her.

Never... never had he seen her cry like this. A few tears or a wet gaze from old memories but never like this. It was awful. Disarming but also... oh it burned in him. It set something aflame that riled and roared and climbed up his chest like a hungered beast.

"I'm sorry," he heard her tremble again. Inosuke babbled between them, chubby hands grabbing at Doma's linens.

"Don't be sorry," Doma soothed, holding her closer.

Never. Never. Never you're perfect. The emotion of anger burned in his chest and made his eyes dance in fury guaranteed it. Someone had to pay. Something had to be done.

And he had so many options.

It took only a few moments for Kotoha to compose herself and as she leaned away and wiped her eyes Doma made a startling realization. He knew that smile. That mask. She wiped her eyes until they were try and rubbed her face until her emotions were buried.

She smiled at him. It was fake.

He hated it. Oh, he understood it all now. They were similar... and that realization was terrifying.

"I'm sorry..." Kotoha sighed ruefully as she pulled her hair back, Inosuke still content in her lap. "I'm sure this is the last thing you wanted to deal with after a week of traveling -"

"None of that now. Let's go to dinner, I'm sure you're hungry," Doma smiled, putting on his normal fake smile. Dinner was for Kotoha...

He would eat later.

(Doma be smittin.

Kotoha really walked in and gave Doma a good dose of morality and now he's just falling apart and contemplating murder. Ah, young love.

What do y'all think? This is my first time trying to write like... real romance so... I dunno, just tell me how cringe it is. Love y'all. Have a great day/night.)