You still remember the night you two met, the memory ingrained clearly in your mind: it was a stormy afternoon, nature raging outside with branches scratching against your windows and leaves beating on the glass. The sky above darkened, the warm drizzle mixed with the humid breeze. Gray clouds drifted overhead, bringing a sudden chilling wind and shower with them, causing water to flow down the pathways and pool into puddles. The air itself carried an earthy scent, and the wilting leaves from the trees gracefully descended to join the wet ground. The soothing sound of rain trickling down the window added to the enchantment of the moment.
And then, there he was, behind your door, a strikingly toned and towering figure, utterly drenched, his hair clinging to his face, hands tucked in the pockets of his pants, and a subtle, intriguing smile playing on his lips. "Hey, can I stay here for a couple of days until the storm blows over? I ain't got anywhere else to go." He asked, his voice low and laced with a hint of vulnerability.
You could feel your jaw drop, your cheeks flushed with a mixture of shyness and amazement. This man...he was undeniably handsome-his bold and quiet confidence, his voice, his charming smile, all of it made your heart throb. "S-Sure..." you muttered, " you can stay here."
"There's no need to be shy," he chuckled, "I'll be gone and outta your hair in a couple of days."
The blush in your cheeks deepened. "Yeah, okay," you replied shyly, avoiding his icy gaze, "go sit by the heater to warm yourself up. I'll go get you a towel so you can shower."
"Alright, then." The man said with a sly grin.
You don't quite recall how, but somehow "warming up" took on a different meaning than intended: you soon found yourself entangled with him, your body sweating underneath his touch, his hips meeting yours in monstrous thrusts. The room resonated with the sounds of your moans and his grunts, the intensity of the moment overwhelming both of you.
"F-Fuck Toji...slow down..." you gasped amidst the pleasure.
"Shh," he whispered, silencing you by plunging his digits into your mouth, "the only sound I wanna hear is the sound of your pussy purring." Toji's pace intensified, his grip on your hips growing more possessive. You couldn't contain your ecstasy, climaxing as fire surged through your body. His thrusts grew erratic, and his breath quickened in tandem with your movements.
On a high of both pleasure and euphoria, you did as Toji said-you let your pussy talk for you, breathlessly blurting out: "I love you, Toji.
"...Heh, do ya really?" A response less than what you expected. But the wave of pleasure that coursed through your body was too much for you to inject, to express your dissatisfaction at his answer.
As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, Toji's presence became a permanent fixture in your life. He moved in, sharing the burdens of rent and groceries with a part-time job, allowing you to take more breaks. Yet, amidst this peaceful coexistence, there remained a lingering issue-those three words you so desperately wanted to hear repeated. Each time you uttered "I love you," Toji's response fell short, often met with laughter or a casual "Okay," leaving your heart yearning for the affirmation you craved.
You glance at him now from where you are: in the dimly lit room he sits, his eyes stuck on the dull glow of the phone in his hand. On instinct, you make your way over to Toji, settling into his lap, your fingers delicately toying with the fine ends of his hair.
A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he meets your gaze, curiosity dancing in his eyes. "What's wrong, doll?"
You offer no answer, instead, you continue to run your fingers through the strands, captivated by the finely sculpted features of the man before you: his features seem meticulously crafted, each detail carefully considered in the making of Toji's face, from the angular lines of his cheekbones to the gentle slope of his chiseled jawline. His pale, pink lips curve perpetually in a sly smirk, and his dark eyes hold an untamed intensity that ensnares your attention. You can't help but be enamored, can't resist the urge to confess, "I love you."
