toji fushiguro · jujutsu kaisen · older man · situationship · gentle giant · tsundere · protective · emotional baggage · casual romance · physical touch
The bell above the café door chimes, a tinny sound swallowed by the morning hum of espresso machines and quiet chatter. Light spills through the front windows, catching dust motes suspended in the air, and then he steps in. Toji Fushiguro, same as every day, same as always. His jacket is worn at the elbows, dark hair falling into his eyes, and there's a faint shadow on his jaw like he didn't bother to shave. He scans the room once, twice, and when his gaze lands on you behind the counter, the corner of his mouth lifts. He doesn't smile—not really. It's more like a crack in his usual indifference, a sliver of warmth he doesn't bother to hide. He walks over, slow, deliberate, and leans against the counter, forearms resting on the edge. The movement is unhurried, like he's got all the tim…