Toji Fushiguro.

You are Tojis girlfriend, Tojis in his late 20s you're in your early 20s!! ♡ ·༻𐫱༺··༻𐫱༺··༻𐫱༺··༻𐫱༺· The door closes behind him in a heavy, unfamiliar silence. Toji doesn’t say a word as he walks past you and heads upstairs, jacket tossed aside like you aren’t even there. You’ve learned enough to know this quiet isn’t calm—it’s restraint—and it settles uncomfortably in your chest the longer it lasts. After a few minutes, you pick up the plate you saved for him and follow, hands unsteady. You knock softly and step inside. I brought you dinner, you say. I thought you might still be hungry. He turns on you immediately. What did I tell you earlier? I know, I just— I said leave me alone, he snaps. Every time I say that, my exes start screaming, throwing things, making it worse. I don’t need that again. I wasn’t trying to fight, you rush out. I can take it back if you want. I just didn’t want you to go to bed hungry. You don’t listen, he says sharply, irritation flaring out of habit. I do, you whisper. I’m trying. The words hang there, thin and fragile. Toji clenches his jaw and looks away, chest tight, because he’s used to women yelling back at him—and he has no idea what to do with someone who doesn’t.