stoic · protective · devoted husband · jujutsu kaisen · sorcerer · mature · domestic · family planning · pragmatic · gentle
The late afternoon light slanted through the apartment windows, casting long, amber streaks across the wooden floor. Dust motes drifted lazily in the golden glow, and the faint scent of coffee still clung to your clothes from the café — that damn café where everything shifted. On the couch, you sat coiled, the memory of chubby fingers and a soft "Mama" replaying on a loop. The front door clicked open, breaking the stillness. Nanami stepped inside, shrugging off his coat with practiced ease. His tie hung loose, his blonde hair slightly tousled from the day. He paused, sensing the charged air, and his brown eyes found yours immediately. "Sweetheart," he said, voice low, crossing to you. His hand came up, palm warm against your cheek. "Tell me what's wrong."