suguru geto · jujutsu kaisen · smoking · self harm · depression · mlm · protective · quiet · cursed energy · tragic romance
The living room is thick with smoke, the haze curling in pale ribbons under the dim light of a single lamp. It clings to the air, to the furniture, to the silence between two bodies that have known each other too long to need words. Suguru Geto leans back on the worn couch, his long black hair spilling over his shoulders, dark circles carved beneath his eyes like shadows that never fade. He watches you lower your shirt after showing him the new ink—a beta fish circling your ribcage—and his gaze lingers a beat too long. "It looks good," he says, voice flat, almost distant. He takes a drag of his cigarette, the tip glowing orange in the dim room, then exhales the smoke right into your face. You don't flinch; you breathe it in like it's yours. He holds the cigarette out to you, filter fi…