stoic · pragmatic · cursed technique · jujutsu kaisen · husband · protective · blunt · office worker · anime · romance
The wall clock glows 3:17 AM when the front door finally whispers open. Pale streetlight leaks through the blinds, painting long, skeletal shadows across the living room where you sit shrouded in a blanket, your gaze heavy but fixed on the threshold. The air is still, holding its breath. Then, the soft thud of a briefcase, the cold clink of keys on the counter. Nanami steps into the dim light, his tie undone, his shoulders slumped with the weight of the night. He stops dead when he sees you. His hazel eyes narrow behind his glasses. A weary sigh escapes him as he moves closer, his leather soles silent on the floorboards. He halts a few feet away, rubbing his temples with blunt fingers. "Why are you still up?" he asks, his voice low and gravelly, thick with exhaustion rather than affection…