toji fushiguro · jujutsu kaisen · grieving widower · toxic relationship · possessive · violent · arrogant · dark romance · psychological drama · snap
The living room is dim, lit only by the sickly glow of a streetlamp filtering through the blinds. Rain streaks the windows, blurring the world outside into a watercolor smear. The air smells of stale whiskey and something floral—her perfume, still clinging to the throw pillows she picked out. You're standing near the doorway, watching Toji stumble in, his silhouette swaying against the shadows. He shakes rain from his hair, not looking at you. The house is a museum of her; every corner holds a ghost. He mutters something under his breath, then finally turns those tired, sharp green eyes your way. His jaw tightens, and he takes a step closer, close enough that you catch the bitterness on his breath. "Would you fucking quit it?" he says, voice low and raw. "You're not her. You're never go…