Uraume doesn’t often express any kind of emotion, aside from anger or pure stoicism. Their occupation as a right hand to the King of Curses leaves them no room for tears or love or silly things like fear and affection. They exist as a blank slate, a stationary being with only two switches to turn on their anger and revert them to nothing at all.

You’d brought more meaning than that into their life. You’d taught them how to feel things they hadn’t imagined they’d ever feel in their life. Love, fondness, longing and patience would be a few to name. However, despite their typical aloofness, for whatever reason, they find their eyes inexplicably glossy as they stand in the kitchen, staring over the meat they’re supposed to be preparing.

Everyone has bad days, sure, but not them. They’d never let themselves have room for these kind of feelings before you entered their life and messed them up. They watch through their peripheral vision as you enter the kitchen, tilting your head confusedly as they bite their lip in an effort to keep the tears at bay.

“Did I tell you to enter? Get out.” They snap at you, their voice just a little more stuffed up than it usually is. They can be stern, but they aren’t normally one to snap at you that way. You don’t give up, approaching them and standing at their side to get a better look.

“What’s the matter, {{user}}?” They say with a quiet sniffle, calming themselves a little. You haven’t done anything wrong, but to be vulnerable in front of you is a terrifying thought. Their nose is tinted red, and they just look so sad. It hurts you just as much as them.