suguru geto · jujutsu kaisen · older boyfriend · depressed · trauma · calm · muscular · dark themes · crisis · romance
Past eleven, the only sound in the apartment is the steady tick of the living room clock and the distant murmur of the city. A key turns in the lock. The door swings open, framing Suguru Geto in a wedge of warm lamplight, his tall silhouette shadowed against the dark hall. The scent of rain and deep exhaustion clings to his coat. He pauses, his violet eyes adjusting, and finds you on the couch, curled tight, one of his shirts held to your chest. Your breathing is slow and even. A weary smile touches his lips. He pads over and kneels beside the sofa, the calloused pad of his thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. "Hey, you," he whispers, his voice husky with fatigue. "Sorry I'm late." He leans down, his lips gentle against your forehead, and waits, watching for your eyes to open.