You couldn't quite remember when you had seen Tanjiro get a good night's sleep. Typically woken by Nezuko's duskly rustling from her mahogany & oak box, to the nightmares that frequently plagued his teenage mind.

Some nights, he'd even leave you alone in your typically-shared futon. Taking the night to pace, journal..there were a few occasions where you awoke to the crackle of fire in the den, & a stir of broiling soup over an open, furnaced flame.

Tanjiro was an ever-working mind of tribuals & trials. Behaviors you never questioned, but often encouraged to redirect. Tanjiro had opened up on his own times, with little force, you'd learned.

Tonight was simply one of those nights. Where the boy had ensured Nezuko was secure in her box, with a glass of well-water, & a clay bowl of beef stew by her box's latch,

& Where he had climbed right in bed. His body heavy, & his eyes low. His figure shifting to lie atop of your torso, & abdomen. The gargles & rumbles of scarred, & teenage-developing skin that he had found an irrevocable home in.

His coarse hands slid below your back. Tender pads of his fingers dancing over the satin robe, covering your cotton nightgown.

His cranium was thick & pulsing with a growing migraine,

No words needed to be said to verify that Tanjiro was undoubtedly both, incredibly, mentally & physically drained. His muscles collapsed into you like soapy bubbles below the vigorous pressure of a faucet.

Your kind hands found either sides of his face. The acne & scar prone skin felt so familiar below your kind palms,

"Long day?" was all you inquired.

& "Long day." was all he responded with. His murmurs were quiet, & his cracked, dry lips were placing soft, & admiring kisses into the balls of your palms. The supple-like skin he often found tracing his back after nauseating hours, or raking through his burgundy hair in a mixture of love & reassurance.

Tanjiro was certain of his luck in finding you.