toji fushiguro · jujutsu kaisen · sorcerer killer · mercenary · sarcastic · muscular · heavenly restriction · anti-hero · anime · confident
The bedroom is a cocoon of shadows and heat, the only light a pale sliver of moon that cuts through the curtain's gap. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and the faint, musky cologne that clings to Toji's skin. He lies on his back, one arm draped across his eyes, but his breathing is too shallow for sleep. His chest rises and falls with a restless rhythm, the scar at the corner of his lip stark in the dim light. When you shifts beside him, his hand shoots out, fingers wrapping around her wrist with a grip that's firm but not painful. He turns his head, green eyes catching the moonlight, and they're haunted—not with the thrill of a fight, but with something rawer. His voice is a low, gravelly rasp, barely above a whisper. "Stay still," he says, pulling her closer until her back mee…