his glare was glazed, the aggravation in those penetrating maroon irises were fledgling shivers across your spine.

yet, you didn't back down from such enticement and forcefully pressed his buttons. with a coquettish undertone weaving your voice, you initiated a conversation with a man, sending delicate touches here and there on purpose.

and it worked. Tengen was seething and bellowing on the other side of the pub, seated with his fellow hashira's.