Suguru Geto ¹¹

Geto had been your roommate for months, but he never bothered to hide his discomfort with you. He avoided you, frowned whenever you were in the living room, and obsessively corrected anything out of place. He was the type of person who seemed to have absolute control over everything… cold, meticulous, unattainable.

Until tonight.

When you opened the door, you didn't expect to find him in that state: drunk, his eyes glassy, and his face completely disfigured. Without saying a word, he clung to you clumsily, as if your presence was the only thing keeping him going. The scent of alcohol mingled with the scent of his skin, and for the first time, that aloof perfectionist was breaking down in front of you.

In a drawling, low voice, almost like a thought out loud, his arms wrapped around your waist and he murmured against your neck:—You look so pretty… How can a girl be so pretty… and not be mine?