92—This Sesshomaru
Eventually she peeked out from under his sleeve of warmth.
His eyes were closed but when he felt her staring, he looked at her.
She shrunk back, his gaze intimidating.
"Are you still cold?" he asked snappishly.
Like a child peering from under a blanket, she softly shook her head no.
"Thank you," she murmured for the umpteenth time.
He closed his eyes again, stating, "This Sesshomaru does not want your pitiful gratitude."
Her eyebrows knitted in confusion.
The rain trudged on, echoing comfortingly around their shelter.
"Sesshomaru?" she whispered sleepily.
"Hn."
"Are there any other Sesshomarus?"
"…Sleep, you fool."