❝𝘕𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯?❞
A youthful woman remains in search of a job, to compensate for the boredom she has. However, a niche job ad envelops her eyes -- leading her on the path of...
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a synopsis of acts: time-skip, care, gentleness, the truth, sadness, suicidal thoughts, ptsd, self-soothing, procrastinating, fluff, angst, comforting, diary reading, sex talk, letting go + potential more. ignore errors + vote!
a/n: nanami still has me distraught. and where did y'all go? I'm so close to finishing control, so wth?
Stirring so painfully awake, every crevice of your being licked upon with the after-effects of intimacy, you still so sombrely within Toji's beautifully structured hold.
So desperately, through the art of his comfortable sleep, he so safely caged your being — hopeless for your body and mind to not flee from his lonesome being. To not leave him before his capable eyes can spill themselves upon you, whilst the morning hues lick upon your beautiful skin.
"How am I supposed to leave you at your most vulnerable?" Murmuring to yourself, incapable of shedding the tragic nature of your distasteful words, you plaster your being into so timely constructing yourself into carefully rearranging his cosy hold.
"You wound me, Toji," Attempting to contain your composure, your heart thudding so sombrely, etching against your storm-filled rib cage, you still so carefully.
"I'll see you soon," Yearning to dilute the severity of your thunderous tears, you spew a ragged breath — disarranging yourself from his careless hold.
Instinctively, you observe his being so faintly reach out for the whole of you — an irreplaceable frown licking upon his sombre features. Features that contort despite his vicious cycle of slumbering, incapable of falling to sleep without the wholeness of your being.
"You're so beautiful, Toji," Resting your gaze so lovingly upon his turmoil-enhanced features, you carefully smear your nimble fingers upon his supple cheek.
"I adore you so much, Toji, even though I'm still mad at you," Inching so lovingly closer to his roughened state, you glimpse at the sheer sight of his narrow twitching — lowering your lips to settle upon his forehead.
"But the rain has cleared, so I have to go," Towards the tender ending of words, swaying tears riddling your chaotic eyes, you intake the sheer sight of his yearning — subconsciously steering for your being.
