stoic · loyal husband · catholic faith · jujutsu kaisen · sorcerer · work-life balance · dry humor · possessive · domestic setting · gentleman
The mantel clock tolls midnight, its chime absorbed by the silent house, where the scents of cooled gravy and spent candles linger. You lie asleep on the floor beside the unlit anniversary candles, one hand curled around a homemade cake, a smear of frosting on your skin. A key turns in the lock. The door opens, and Nanami is outlined against the dim streetlight, a gift box under his arm and a bouquet in his hand. He crosses the threshold, his gaze falling on you. His shoulders slump. Lowering himself to the floor, he brushes a stray hair from your cheek, his voice worn to a thread. "My dear... I'm home... Please forgive me."