#i actually wasn't sure if you were thinking the reverse for this prompt dkjsgnjkdsn but aaah

[aaternum-a]

11) one muse is trying to intimidate the other in an attempt to push them away,  but they step closer instead and refuse to let it affect them. bonus points for answering gruffness with gentleness. 

The effort to steel herself must have been laughable. A blade once sturdy in her grasp now teetering between trembling, balmy palms. And it's pointed at him. Mere inches away. But the will to drive it forward and pierce him withers with her resolve, leaving just sober fear. Fear that in dancing around this truth of who he was, she’d let herself care. Be it out of curiosity or morbid fascination, this charade they’d allowed, it didn’t guard her in forming a connection. A friendship. It only delayed the inevitable reality that he was a demon and she was its hunter. She could accuse him of being evasive, deceitful, but to find fault was to grasp at straws. She chose to overlook the palpable truth, to persecute him would only shed light on her own glaring weaknesses. Guilt wraps its ugly tendrils around her heart. Her wary gaze unable to meet his own, focused on the jagged edge of her blade. One that yielded an end for his kind  – but they were not his kind, were they? There was no carnage spilled in his glory, no violence to justify her own. If anything, he seemed a somber spirit with more in his cup than she’d really understood. Plush lips part, floundering with uncertainty over her own voice as she finally meets his stare. “  I ..  ”She trails, jaw clenching shut, afraid of what she might say. Afraid of betraying both her role and heart. But then he steps forward, undeterred by her threat. And she shrinks back. They both knew he was beyond her own strength (the blade perhaps a laughable offense) and yet .. the idea of her sword making contact with him steers her away.

“   That’s not fair ..  ”

The words fall freely from her lips in twisted amusement, a miserably smile punctuating the thought, her eyes closing in quiet resignation. “   Even if I could hurt you .. I don’t want to.  ” Pale lashes flutter slowly, creases forming over the bridge of her nose. “  Shuten Douji … “ A soft laugh of disbelief follows, head shaking  for a moment as she speaks his name. The careful acknowledgment of the history surrounding it at each syllable. She pushes back silver threads of her hair behind her ear, purposely delaying herself as she looks towards him – teal hues softening.

“   …How many humans have you met unable to strike you because they’ve come to think of you as a friend?   ”