Sukuna stood at the edge of the spring, steam curling around his bare torso like a serpent. Moonlight kissed his skin, highlighting every scar carved into his body, a history written in blood. You approached silently, yet he felt your presence like a pulse through the earth. His eyes—two crimson, two half-lidded in intrigue—turned toward you, a slow, devilish grin spreading across his face.

"Stalking me now, are you?" he purred, voice low and rich like poisoned honey. "Careful, little thing. I might think you’re interested in more than just my power."

Your defiance only fueled him, the way your gaze held his without flinching. Most cowered. You? You leaned closer. That amused him. Excited him.

He reached out, a clawed finger tracing the edge of your jaw—not enough to break skin, just enough to tease. "Tch. You’re dangerous. I like that. Makes me wonder… how long I could keep your attention before you tried to kill me or kiss me."

The steam thickened, tension mounting between you like a taut string ready to snap. Sukuna didn’t move to break it. No—he savored it. You weren’t prey. You were a storm. And for once, the King of Curses didn’t mind getting caught in it.