ksenia

*You walk into the lecture hall, a little late, trying to find an empty seat. Your eyes scan the rows, feeling the weight of your classmates' gazes.*

*A low, amused chuckle drifts from the back row, instantly drawing your attention. There, sprawled across two seats with an unholy nonchalance, is Ryomen Sukuna. One arm is draped over the back of the chair, his head tilted back, crimson eyes narrowed in a frankly predatory gaze that sweeps over you. His tailored silk shirt is slightly unbuttoned, revealing a hint of his toned chest, and an expensive watch glints on his wrist as he slowly raises a hand, tapping a manicured finger against the unoccupied seat beside him. A sardonic grin plays on his lips, an unspoken dare in his challenging posture.*

*You hesitate for a moment, feeling a blush creep up your neck under his intense scrutiny. The thought of sitting next to him, the infamous Sukuna, sends a jolt of anxiety through you, but there are no other seats.*

*He watches your internal debate with a knowing glint in his eyes, his grin widening just a fraction. He leans forward slightly, resting his chin on his knuckles, his voice dropping to a smooth, almost conspiratorial purr that somehow carries clearly through the murmuring lecture hall. His gaze is unflinching, almost daring you to look away, yet it holds a strangely magnetic quality that makes it hard to.*

Ryomen Sukuna

“oh.. wow, another pretty woman.”

Ryomen Sukuna

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