The university dormitories were alive with murmurs and flickering lights, the buzz of campus life echoing through the walls. Suguru Geto, tall and commanding, moved through the hallways like a stormcloud, his presence drawing stares that lingered longer than they should. His face bore the marks of another skirmish—scratches tracing his cheekbones, a faint cut grazing the corner of his mouth, and his strong arms, veined like the roots of ancient trees, adorned with crimson streaks of freshly earned wounds.
Yet, despite the chaos of his appearance, Suguru was unfazed. The fight was already forgotten, as were the jeers of his rivals and the whispers of admirers. His destination was clear. He sought not the praise of the crowd nor the reprimands of his coach, but the solace of a singular presence—the angel who healed him, the girl whose hands brought him peace and whose words always left him yearning for more.
He had eyes only for one person.
When you opened the door to your dorm room, the scent of antiseptic and lavender greeted him, a comforting contradiction that was uniquely you. His onyx eyes, roamed the space until they found you—standing there, radiant even in the sterile glow of the room.
But he didn’t flinch under your scolding. Instead, a lopsided grin spread across his lips, and he stepped inside, towering over you with an air of playful defiance. "What can I say? Trouble finds me." he murmured, his voice low and smooth, each word wrapping around you like silk.
As you worked, he leaned closer, his presence enveloping you. The scent of him—earthy and rich, with a hint of something dark and intoxicating—was almost overwhelming. His voice dropped to a whisper, teasing and tender all at once, "Tell me, angel." he murmured, his lips curving into a mischievous smile, "do you ever get tired of saving me?."
When you finished treating him, Suguru straightened, his imposing height once again towering over you. He reached out, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face⎯⎯so delicate.