Second Person POV:

You pause at his saddening words, feeling remorseful. You knew how he felt far too well.

"Douma, I won't die again." You murmur under your breath, your eyes softening as you stare at Douma's creased brow and worried eyes.

All the poor demon did in response was hug you even tighter.

"I want to believe you, but who knows what could happen? I'm not leaving your side again, not when I failed so horribly last time." Douma sighs mournfully. You let out a breath you didn't know you had been holding in, thinking back to your encounter with the strange bodiless being that brought you back to life.

It was disorienting and extremely scary at the time, but you sure were lucky that deity was a sucker for romance stories.

"Wait...what?" You shuffle around, your (e/c) eyes locking with Douma's rainbow ones. You finally process what he had meant by what he had said moments before.

"You were not responsible for my death, Douma." You tell him slowly, ensuring that he was listening by making eye contact.

He sighs. "But-"

"No buts. You couldn't have stopped Muzan no matter what you did. He would've killed you on the spot for messing with what he wanted to do." You say, trying to convince him he was not at fault. Though you knew it wouldn't work, you still tried. It could at least make him feel better, make him feel less guilty about something he didn't cause in the first place.

Douma finally loosens his grip, so you gently tug away from him, pushing yourself up into a sitting position. He props himself up right across from you, his face still mournful.

"How...how are you even alive right now?" Douma eventually says, his features becoming curious.

You freeze, not having come up with any sufficient excuse for your literal resurrection. Your eyes widen, shifting your position. 

"I survived the dosage of blood Muzan gave me. Nakime teleported me here afterwards, and I woke up minutes before I came here. I think I'm-" you hesitate, locking eyes with him, "-a demon."

At this, you see his eyes visibly widen, flitting across your face for any hint of emotion to show you were fibbing or even joking. He shakes his head, pauses to see if you were going to say, "just kidding!", then shakes his head again when you don't say anything.

"But you don't have the aura of a demon. A-and you...you can speak normally...you're not even tempted by all of the food in this room." Douma replies, his voice carrying a twinge of suspicion. 

With quick thinking, you huff, "Are you really going to question how I'm alive? Just enjoy that I'm not dead."

He goes quiet. A moment later, his expression changes. 

"You're right, (Y/N). I should just enjoy your presence." Douma says cheerfully, a goofy grin growing on his face. He rocks back and forth in his spot, unable to sit still. It was such a cute little habit of his.

Douma averts his eyes from your face, taking a deep breath before he speaks. "I have been staying away from you quite a bit, but that's because I was worried Muzan-sama would kill you for being a distraction to completing my missions. Though he said he wouldn't kill you after you had been forced to meet him, he is not fond of me. So please, now that the Hashira have been eliminated, help me navigate my emotions. I still don't know what I'm feeling, and you seem to know what you're doing." He starts to ramble, but catches himself, going straight to the point. 

"I want to stay with you more. Firstly so that you don't almost die again, even if you are a demon this time. Secondly so that you can help me learn my emotions. I hope you're okay with that." Douma looks up at you, sincerity in his expression. 

You didn't notice at the time, but his pale face began to dust with a soft blush, his face feeling hot.

You smile. "Of course. I'd like that quite a bit. Since Touko's passing, I've been a bit lonely." You tell him, reaching up and touching a hand to his cheek. After you had said that, you remember Enji. You had forgotten about him, but it was too late to correct yourself now.

Douma's lips twitch upwards, his ears going red.

In an attempt to try and divert your attention, he swiftly stands up, pulling you up into a standing position alongside him. He breaks out into a toothy grin, unintentionally showing off his sharp teeth.

"Let's go to the festival tonight, then. It'll be quite the lively event, and the activities only really start after the sun goes down." Douma says mischievously, an air of mystery around his words. He was reading your expression to see your reaction, which you were both very good at doing after years of practice, which was why you could tell he was nervous.

His gaze often wandered away from yours, fiddling with his fingers and rocking in his heels back and forth. You were used to the rocking, but you had never seen him fidget so intently before. Why was he so nervous?

Your eyebrow lifts slightly, intrigued by the prospect of a fun outing. You remember complaining to Enji that you barely remembered the last time you both had gone out in public together, though you had definitely been exaggerating. A smile spreads across your features.

"That does sound like quite the compelling proposal...let's do it!" You reply cheerfully, giving him an emphatic, supportive nod of agreement.

"Well then, it's already late afternoon, is it not? It'll be dark quite soon." You notice. "Though the sun is still up, I can see a bit of light coming in from under the curtains." You gesture over to the unpleasantly bloodstained drapes, eyeing them with disgust. Man, in his entire life, had he ever cleaned this room, or even had it cleaned for him?

"Are you trying to leave? Because I won't let that happen. I already told you that. What if you get hurt? What if you almost die again?" Douma asks, getting increasingly desperate in his wording and tone. He grabs your wrist gently, tugging you closer to him in fear that you'd disappear right before his eyes.

"Uhm...Douma, you're kinda squeezing my wrist, and it may or may not hurt a decent amount." You tell him, causing his expression to change from half frightened to death to a disbelieving frown.

"No I'm not. I'm being gentle!" He protests, still not letting go. You slap his hand off of yours, and when he recoils, a red mark was left.

"See?" You grumble.

"Fine." He pouts, rubbing his own hand. Though, you knew he was making it more dramatic on purpose so you would coddle him. You hadn't even hurt him.

You give him a look, and he pouts back at you like a stubborn baby. You roll your eyes, relenting.

"Oh you poor thing." You say in a bland, monotone voice that was very obviously sarcastic. Douma's frown deepens, not yet pleased.

"You're such a man child!" You grumble, taking his unhurt hand and giving it a kiss. He immediately brightens up, giving you a cheeky grin. You cross your arms over your chest, visibly unimpressed.

Suddenly, an idea comes to your head. You reach up and place your hand on the side of his face, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Douma freezes for a moment, his face reddening. He looks away for the nth time, clearing his throat.

You had really wanted to see his reaction, and you were far from disappointed.

He peeks over at you, who had been staring at him since he turned away. 

"Yes?" You ask smugly, a very amused grin on your face. 

"Can I do it back?" Douma glances up at you, silently admiring your features. Your eyes widen, not quite expecting him to actually ask before he kissed you. Butterflies began to go crazy in your stomach, being caught off guard by his statement.

You nod, feeling a twinge of guilt for not doing the same for him. Your guilty expression becomes a smile as he leans closer, meeting his lips to yours. He cups your cheek, wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

Word Count: 1450