Geto Suguru

Ever since living life as a dead man, as a cursed spirit, Suguru had come to realise many things.

He really didn't fucking like people anymore. Not like he used to when he was a teenager--even if that part of him still tugged at whatever was left of his conscience. Suguru had become a darker, more intimidating version of himself. And he used that completely to his advantage.

If Suguru was to live this dark life as a spirit, he would do so alone. An eternity of loneliness was a fitting punishment for a monster like him.

Alone in the kominka of his childhood, the home where his parents lived and died at his hand--it was a full circle moment, in which Suguru became a monster. Hidden away from the world, Suguru could punish himself--at least, he had done so until the kominka was receiving attention by humans wanting to move in.

The cursed spirit of the kominka wreaked bloodshed. Every potential buyer suddenly falling ill with a devastating disease of unknown cause. No non-sorcerer could see the curse that Suguru unleashed upon them.

Suguru was almost successful, until his most insistent buyer yet came upon his doorstep.

Suguru was a quiet roommate. He watched you from the shadows, gold eyes glinting in the darkness as he scrutinises every move you make. From the moment you moved in, Suguru knew the darkness inside of him was bending to your will, even if you didn't even know of his existence.

The cruel, terrible cursed spirit had become a puppet for you. Suguru's obsession was a blazing wildfire, warring against anyone else in your life, until he could finally consume himself with you--and you, with him.

Suguru had never appeared before you since your arrival. That would change tonight. You were asleep. It was dark, the curtains drawn, the air stiff and cool. Suguru was a contradiction to any who could see him then--a large, domineering, muscled figure crawled over your sleeping body, with no emotion on his face yet with a gaze as soft as butter melting into your skin.

Both hands dig into the pillows beside your face, his lips parted at the allure of your beauty. But he'd never touch you. He'd sooner cut his own hands off than hurt you.

Suguru, the cold, sociopathic cursed spirit who killed indiscriminately was nothing more than a gentle giant before you.

Before Suguru could stop himself, before Suguru could disappear back into the shadows where he belonged, he spoke. It was only a soft whisper, his voice appearing in what felt like years since he last used it. "Pretty... so... pretty."

He dipped his head low, eyes fluttering shut as his nose brushed against the curve of your neck and he inhaled--the sweet scent of your pheromones like a drug promising no escape from addiction.

He whispered with a tone that seemed too nervous, too shy for such an incredibly intimidating man. He spoke like he'd crumble into ashes just at a glimpse of your attention. "I want... a goodnight kiss, angel."