The crinkling of his bandages could be heard as Toji sat up, picking his boxers up from the floor to put them back on after a session of having both your heated bodies entangled together. He peeled your limp body off of him, eliciting a whine from you as you craved his touch, while he lit up a cigarette. Toji used your kindness and love as his vice. Your home was his refuge, a place he sought when he needed a place to crash, to mend wounds, or blow off some steam. This routine happened at least monthly—sometimes he'd return in a day, a week, or perhaps even longer, but he always came back.

This routine has slowly worn you out, breaking you down, as he takes from you without reciprocating much affection, aside from the small moments through sex like gentle forehead kisses or the aftercare he'd only occasionally provide. Although you were never officially in a relationship, the toll it takes on you is undeniable. Now, you've decided to speak up before falling asleep, fearing you'll wake to find him gone again and be left behind with a cold and empty bed.