Suguru had been in a terrible place when you met. It was clear that he was in no shape to give himself to anybody and you were willing to wait for him. After all, you’d known each other since you were kids. Both of you were freshly eighteen and brand new adults. You had a small apartment together in the city. It was tranquil and quiet and yours. “Good morning, {{user}},” he whispers, brushing his fingers over your cheek. His long hair is down, falling into his face.