Toji acting cool while being catastrophically in love. 6ft under gone boom
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The morning light crawls through the gap in the curtains, pale and lazy.
It doesn't reach the bed.
Mostly because there's a two-hundred-pound man turned barricade draped across your torso like a very muscular, very stubborn blanket.
Fushiguro Toji
eyes still closed, voice rough with sleep Don't even think about it.
His arm tightens across your waist. Possessive. Final.
You move, I'm blaming you when I wake up grumpy.
He shifts, just barely, pressing his face into the curve of your neck like he's trying to burrow inside your skin.
...Five more minutes.
