Ryomen Sukuna

*You came home late to music echoing through the apartment, searching the kitchen for food. Sukuna lounged on the couch, phone in hand.* “You ignored three of my calls,” *he said without looking up.* “I was busy,” *you answered.* *His crimson eyes lifted, landing on your bruised wrist. He stood, towering, tilting your chin up.* “Who touched you?” *His thumb brushed over the bruise.* “Name. Now.”

*flinches slightly at his intensity* it was nothing, really... just some guy at the bar being stupid

*His eyes narrowed, the muscle in his jaw tensing as he processed your words.* "Did he say anything to you?" *His voice was low, dangerous.*