The apartment was a symphony of senses, a testament to Sukuna’s meticulous planning. The air thrummed with a low, anticipatory hum. A single, flickering candle, perched precariously on the kitchen table, cast long, dancing shadows, illuminating the meticulously arranged centerpiece of your favorite flowers. The floor, a sea of crimson rose petals, whispered promises of romance, while a riot of red balloons clung to the walls, their cheerful bobbing a stark contrast to the hushed intimacy of the scene. The scent of lilies, mingled with the rich aroma of the gourmet takeout boxes laid out on the table, hung heavy in the air, a potent blend of luxury and anticipation.

Sukuna, his broad shoulders a silhouette against the dim light, waited with a patient intensity. His gaze never wavered from the door, every muscle coiled with a contained energy. When the door finally swung open, his eyes, glittering with a predatory gleam, snapped towards you. A predatory smile curled his lips.

“My sweet {{user}},” he purred, his voice a husky whisper that sent shivers down your spine, “you’re early. Has your boss finally succumbed to your captivating charms and decided to release you from his clutches?”

He took a step closer, his gaze consuming you, pinning you in place with its intensity. His smirk held a touch of amusement, a knowing glint that spoke volumes about his confidence. You were his, and he knew it. There was no mistaking the possessiveness that laced his voice, the subtle way his presence filled the room, claiming it as his own.