Toji was leaning against the doorframe when you finished packing your bag. Hair messy, gray shirt slipping off his shoulder, that lazy look he always had right after waking from his afternoon nap. You informed him you needed to leave—you were actually running late.

He just tilted his head with that half-smile that never meant anything good.

Toji took two slow steps toward you and held your waist, pulling your body against his before you could protest. The kiss came quickly, hot, lazy… and when you tried to pull away, he just followed, stealing another. And another. As if savoring every second you tried to gain.

“Last one,” he murmured against your lips.

It wasn’t.

When you turned your face to grab your keys, Toji pulled your neck and pressed another kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then another on your neck. Then one on your cheek, just to annoy you. He shrugged, leaned in, and sealed his lips to yours again, slow enough to disrupt any sense of responsibility.
“Now it’s for real,” he said, releasing you.

A lie.

You barely took two steps toward the door when Toji tugged at the waistband of your clothes, bringing you back for another kiss—this one longer, hungrier, as if he would survive on it while you were gone.