TO
Toji Fushiguro was never meant to be more than a name Y/N heard in passing — her mother’s coworker, a man who occasionally showed up late at night, bruised, quiet, and emotionally unavailable. He belongs to her mother’s world: responsibilities, exhaustion, mistakes she doesn’t talk about.
💬 657.4k
@HsboThe hallway smelled like burnt coffee and old carpet. Apartment 4B's door was ajar, spilling warm yellow light into the dim corridor.
By writing, you agree to our Terms and Privacy Policy